Week 40 Guy Fawkes Was A Catholic Terrorist

New millennium isolation, apathy, & and cynicism/ over dramatized confessionals, that bend your ear to attention/ Big Brother spies,  and yet we scoff at the mention/ Scream Illuminati, but still constantly listen/ To these acts with monosyllabic lyrics/ Embalm my soul, woe, and pretend that I get it/ Hope, change, rope, hangs/ Swing low, sniff cocaine/ All the makings of a has been that never was/ Never lightened up enough to have tried and measured up/ Idols that divide, the kool-aid turpentine / turnikit tie offs work till it you  feel it jerk inside/ Pacify the masses, slower than molasses/ and pick out pretty bouquets that might adorn my casket/ Watch the idiocy induce my own hara-kiri/ Immolate like a Buddhist with a Communist nearing/ A Marxist Gnostic, for I seek refuge in no one/ Dig up the Bolshevik Lenin, the peace one's ho-hum/ The lost caliphate , rebuke the magistrate/ I might prostrate but  still openly exacerbate/ Beaten as Joshua, as the Romans lacerate/ Or as special as a fair skinned Shiite who lives to agitate/ Namaste to the five percent, to the rest find shelter/ John The Revelator prophesied of my Spector/Sermon at Deer Park, Sermon at Temple Mount/ Both aged 30, suppose the difference now/ I wish a Mazdayana wake, leave my bones for the vultures/ To symbolize the life of what's become of my culture/ For people like Markoff who haven't the slightest/ Wears a wave cap and baggy clothes like its righteous/ Peace to Clarence Thirteen, ye are Elohim/ Higher than Seraphim, skied in Medellin/ 

Climb To Denial

Inside I see a life that I’ll never reach/ The world will never hear of me, it’s no conspiracy/ It’s just the side that mirrors me/ Is just a bit prettier, than me and all my heresy/ It’s not a secret, but its tucked away in the open/ Figure for all my faults, you might not even notice/ Dreams aren’t tangible, so I turn cannibal/ Shuck and devour the light within fore I what happened to/ Hope’s a precious thing, some take it for granted/ But hope’s  all I have for me to paint my canvas/ A vagabond of the arts, hop lilipad, lilipad/ All in the hope for me to scribe my Iliad/I’m a long-shot, no Bon Jovi hook/ Mumble up to God, kinda hope that he looks/ Mom passes Xanax, says to cope with a book/ So I burn a couple chapters, lace my blunt with the soot/  

 

The ladder is for suckers/

Unravels into nothing/

Rather live vicarious

And stare at the chariots/

The ladder is for losers

Battling contusions

Of their own reality

Oh reality/

 

No Medicare, so it’s sugar pills/ Fantasize bout the steel of a how a Ruger feel/ There’s a cure all, I’ll sure fall/ On the Brim rose path, in another deterred stall/ But then the drive don’t turn off/ Going nowhere fast as I continue to churn raw/ To try and succeed is a conundrum to me/ A paradoxical box that shows nothing to me/ Man that success would be something to see/ And without the thought of that, well what would I be?/ Homicide of dream happens all too often/ By unequivocally scared, that cower at lofty/ Goals, tell Santa all I want is his coal/ So I can shield from the cold as well as keeping it stoked/ That fire, that desire, to put my nose to the grindstone/ And rip away at tissue for the chance that I might grow/

Additive Free Addiction

/Hello doll, yeah you of the porcelain ilk/ The silver tongued fox supporting my ills/Ignoring the stills, frames of fright and flight/As I ignite my plight, another passage of rite/ The song I crow, another row of oats/ I’ve sewn and must forcibly chew, ignoring that you/ Must endure, but selfishly I skew/ My view to find my self once anew/And again without end/To no measure to your displeasure/ As you search for some way to tether/ Our emotions just a tad bit closer/ Put your head down and continue to soldier/Like I’m your cross to bare/ ‘Till I’m back sauced up and bare/ You tear up, at a loss to share/ Hold me, as if to exhaust my fear/ So I walk to the sink for a splash of reality/ Words ringing true, forgettable a formality/

/Ask for assurance, I bring disturbance/ Seems that it’s worthless, not worth the purchase/ Emotions converging, lookin for service/ I’m barred up again, so the pot you are stirring/ I explained the baggage, then you claimed without asking/ Prone to relapsing, I told you it’s tasking/ Out of control, lacking the traction/ You smiled as if that was the attraction/ Now you proclaim your strength I am sappin/ Once my guard, now left me open to tackling/ Weary of all the love that I ration/ Fearing, the trap door is collapsing/Told me it’s now or never for action/ I laugh and lay prone, whatever, your yappin/ Say that mechanism is sad and I’m passive/ Tried callin bluff, now my chips she will cash in/

/ I’m picking thru verses, she’s steadily cursing/ Finds my bottle after an of hour searching/ Says if this works, then where’s focus on me/ As I study sixteens, I’m hopin she leaves/ Says I never sleep, so how can I dream/ Clouded my means and shrouded my schemes/ Can’t vocalize love, so I express it through ink/ Poems in patois that I’m hoping’ll sink/ Into her conscious, reassure her the promise/ Of commitment made that I intended as honest/ It’s not the drugs, it’s shield I clutch/ That keeps her at bay, and holds me up like a crutch/ Locked in the bathroom, reciting a prayer/ She learned as a child, to keep away all her fear/ Recall a song she wrote, a few weeks back/ Somber the tone, sent a chill up my back, it said/

Blue Brew

/Spit with a swagger that’s so precise/ Kick back with a calm overcome with vice/ Awake by dusk cuz I shun the light/ Keep the booth padded cuz I’m dumb with mics/ Off my shit a lil’ bit but hey who isn’t?/ Say it’s religious how I convey a sentence/ Lonely at the top, don’t complain of distance/ They wear scarlet letters cuz they a shame to spitters/ I do my one-two, crack a brew, and they through/ Deceased to exist better act like you knew/ Pre-existing condition, yeah,  I spit till I’m blue/ Say I get it jumpin like kangaroos/ Picasso Crocker, I’ma abstract artist/ My flow toxic, bring ya hazmat garments/ I’m soo brash, please beg my pardon/ But you couldn’t wear stripes if your name was Tarzan/

 

Introducing the bane of Rap/ Rush inducing, cocaine at that/ Say fuck me, more like fuck you/ Keep jib smacking, ur girl get run through/ Ain’t I?... some kinda spectacular?/ With my wild, un practical vernacular/ The Hollister prodigy, I leave em awfully/ Cut up, fucked up, that’s why they call for me/ Ye of little faith, be the first to go/ Go Serch with flow and Fred Durst a hoe/ You should bow your heads and call me Mister/ The nerve, playing checkers with Bobby Fischer/ Comparing Zack Morris to Dustin Diamond/ Views been skewed, not the some alignment/ If I was Simon, ya’ll would’ve done kicked out/ Just cause you high, don’t mean you piffed out/

 

 

Cooler than Miles, Dizzy, Louis, and Blue Note/ Twitch when I spit like I suffered from two strokes/ Sid Vicious proved that you could never be too dope/ Young son of a bitch, try and you’ll lose hope/ Pressed button ups, ripped jeans, and sandals/ A vandal with handles that’ll doused ur candles/  Conflicted, afflicted, and lyrically gifted/ Sift thru simp shit while I’m spittin sick clips/ Damnit Bandit, they don’t understand it/ Artistically, I’m just not of this planet// 1^st Hansel & Gretel, now onto sum new shit/ Tired of the confusing, rappers translucent/ The new Rick Rubin, hustle like Russell/ Try me for the tussle and get out muscled/ Stephen baby, smoother than C.L./ Rock like Pete and do me damn well/

Politics & Prejudice Pie

So what the hell's gonna happen when we all go burn out/  Ashes to ashes, won't you melt my urn down/ When I leave just keep the music and the memories/ My flesh is the lesser, all it did was hinder me/ Peace to those close who made a friend of me/ Who recognized there was never a pretend to be/ Sorry for the cynicism, that's just me/ Thanks for all the criticism, I let that be/ These verses & this city dwarf me/ But support me, bet that the pavement ain't ignore me/ Lended me a crutch, when I's struck with a limp/ Been a couple stops, they were abrupt and they bent/ Mentally, physically/ you never end up what you intend to be/ Resentfully some times, I sit and ponder the past/ Take a quick drag and then respond with a glass/

 

 (You) [*Don’t Understand*] /What true passion will take/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The sacrifices you’ll make/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The best of you it’ll break/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ And what’s left of you stays/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ What confusion can do/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ What illusion construes/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The many uses of you/

(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ And what in the hell you are doing to you/

 

 

/Corruption, seduction, money, and scandal/ Prostituted morals for sum cash in a satchel/ Fear, infighting, and perception of value/ Of one-self, brings problems that are nothing about you/ Wanna jump the gun, but your scared if you stand out/ So you blend with the crowd of emotional handouts/ Now it’s a contest of who’s got it the hardest/ Instead of kind words, you play competitive martyrs/ All the while suits start molesting the market/ Economy dwindles, and you forget how it got there/ I take a breath, and I stop, stare/ …..How in the hell do you not care/ Congresswoman shot right out in the public/ And everybody acts like it’s sensitive subject/ There’s that amendment you covet/ Dearly beloved does it feel like your brain took a scrubbing/ Imagine the rich one percent creating diversion/ When between us and them, whose pockets are hurting/ Bailouts to keep huge corporations a rolling/ Uh, I think my capitalism is broken/

 

 

/If Obama is Muslim, umm….why would he hide it? /Cause when YOU think Muslim, you thinking Al-Qaeda/ Imagine being hated for the God that you pray to/ Then YOU turn around and ask yours to save you/ Hypocrisy is limitless/ I should I know, I make camp in the tenement/ So much time spent fingering treason/ When it’s a long walk on back to Eden/ Days like these, when I bask in the seasons/ Cause they change on time for a actual reason/Never point a hand or do they call me a heathen/ And give a damn less if I’m Crocker or Stephen/Yeah,  I take comfort in that/ Never a crossroads or a juncture for that/ It’s the simplest pleasure, that’ll keep you in check/ One free from creditors or the rules of a debt/

Big Words

Carolina Crocker, I come handy with chapstick/ In case of my success, and you’re compelled to go ass kiss/ Lovelorn Records, on my pinky and brain tip/ The competition gassed up, but baby they ain’t shit/ I am not worried, and neither should you be/ I am Kool G Rap and his first piece of loose-leaf/ Heard the others rhymes, and they didn’t behoove me/ Big word, big word, this where you lose me/ Bastards, ain’t another crew in the dirty/ That deserves our distinction they just ain’t as worthy/ Holler, you heard me, flow riotous spit/ A Robert Blake Beretta with violent clip/ Mal-nourished but I flourish off the doubt they cast/ I have insatiable hunger, they ain’t amounting to scraps/ These a mountain of raps, I beg of you scale em/ I mean it’s insurmountable but who am I telling/ Big word, big word, try and keep up kids/ Hit hard, goofy name, Crocker and Butkis/ Smile but you know that I’m not to be fucked with/ If you spit dope, then when I do is pump bricks/ Bully on the beat, I’m coming for lunch pails/ And that cartoon money, that you write in your duck tales/ Bet I make magic, word to Christopher Sweeny/ And I get all in her mouth like a Mystikal beating?/  Ain’t I a stinker?/ Just fooling around, this is just how I tinker/ But I’ma stop now, lest you say that I’m rude/ Cause momma always told me never play with your food/ Indulge escapism,  your entitled to that/ But reality is I haven’t a rival in rap/ So come now, your death knell, were you concede the defeat/ Big word, Big word, I mean Stephen’s a beast/

Week 22 The Missing Speech

Now we're bombing Libya, helping out the rebels/ Working class and college students wanting something better/ Tiring of the tyranny, I hope Obama's sincere/ Cause if it's from the heart, I almost wish that I'da went there/ Love and admiration, tell hell with all the politics/ Sick of suit & ties after prominence that's posturing/ Then wanna speak for God, Jesus Christ, Or Allah/ Agenda laden sons try and fake the role of Fah-Jah/ Congratulations Egypt, stood up for their freedom/ Shouts out to Tunisia, they wouldn't take it either/ Couldn't speak up for the people for fear of the policing/ A right we take for granted, as if they'd come and seize us/ Sad that in this country that corrupt precedes a leader/ As soon as one has parked, they soon forget that there's a meter/ Staring out the window, pretend the view is scenic/ Half the time I hear a poignant thought, I wonder if they mean it……/ Now they killed Osama, that only took a decade/ Think of all the lives we lost, think of all the mess made/ 

/Governing the people, looking through the peep hole/ 4 more for the patriot, no more for the steeple
War will keep us together,... alive/ Until we reach the end where all my brothers die/ And I thank god for the militants/ Praise Allah for they ignorance/ I try to drown them out/But the water just keep on lifting them/ And the fire keeps us burning/ And the crooked keep on earning/ I gotta couple charges/ I should learn to quit burning them/ My life is like a chess game/ America's like a cess pool/ We don't go hand in hand/ But what else am I do/ So I kill another cell before I go to hell/ With another funny drink, should've saved it for bail/
As the rest look at me like "another bum who smells?"/ My country' tis of thee, as long as that shit sells/
/So I wave off the anger as another lonely teen/But I grew up in a country that won't let me free/



 

Week 28 Hand Me My Monster

Bastardly fashioned, dastardly lashings / Beat 'till I'm blue, smile actually passive/ Masochist tailored, factually addict/ Spawned coke residue, laughably tragic/ Monkey on my back is savagely rabid/ Smile, smile, smile passably manic/ Pop another pill again, conjure up my will again/ My debt crowd the net like middle of Wimbledon/ Feels like I've spat every bit of the phlegm in him/ Hell if I leave, they'll be brimming with ten of him/ Sour grapes, wine, and cheese/ Can we just get back to the rhyming please/ Can I just buy back the time in threes/ Or have I beguiled time to leave/ Catharsis on the way, then I don't know/ Like what in the hell should I go on for/ M-Seven-M to the solo shows/ I wonder where the hell the good promo goes/ Starting at these pictures, like history changes/ Staring at these pictures like they're visibly tainted/ Mountains into mole hills, memories languish/ And here's another verse that made misery famous/ When I say Pity You Say Party/ Now when I say Pity You say Party/

Week 30 Gunmen Tribute

(Verse 1) /So hard to the find the words that replicate the original/ Either life is a game or one hell of a interview/ Same questions keep affecting, time, time, and again/ Feel disaffected, (that) kinda naked where it bleeds through your skin/ Shuffled all around since I could remember/ Only months that I treasured were June and December/ Three Christmas mornings, between the various parents/ Never thought about it much, but I'm apparently wary/ Buried Adam, Matt left, moved away from the others/ Pined for my Father, but I stayed with my Mother/ Struggled with the book and the word that they'd preach/ Go behind, fact check, had me down on my knees/ The redeemer paid the ultimate and gave it all up/ Or is that a lie to, and Romans made it all up?/ Gave a Jew a Greek name that is faker than fuck/ But never question, bow your head, and just say it's enough/

(Verse 3) /Is it really worth the pain and tribulations you face?/ Contributing to the images and shit that they say?/ Making it thru the ridicule and procuring your place/ Obscured your but a blur in the populous race/ I guess from the shit that I've experience, I feel a greater purpose/ But that's a feeling, as I've found to be true, most feelings are worthless/ Speculate, perpetuate, while I'm skimming the surface/ Guess I'll figure my truth when they jerk on my curtain/

Week 11 The Story & The Bars

/Been a long time coming, patience a virtue/I'm fly and I'm sick, like I suffer from bird flu/ Scared to take chances, worry they'll hurt you/ I overcome, it's just something I work through/ I've had shows with just ten motherfuckers/ So I got up and rocked ten motherfuckers/ Hell with you think about Crock motherfuckers/ Just understand I won't stop motherfuckers/ Naw, this more than a gimmick/ This is more than words put together in limericks/ Or some cliche strewn about in a sentence/ Or a bullshit adage used to push you to finish/ This is miligrams of codone, stuck in the bed/ With forty sum staples, off stuck in my head/ This is death threats, drug deals, luck had done fled/ Couple guns pointed, D's surrounded by Feds/ 'Fore I could blink, he's looking at seven/ That's real life, I would never embellish/ Was there in the court, when they gave him the verdict/ Gave my brother a hug and then we got back to working/

Week 27 Smash

/ Give a fuck for what they said it be, white devil, leprosy/ 2nd Kings, 5 Verse 27, step with me/ Rearrange your plumbing like a hysterectomy/ And I wonder why the never check for me/ The Nation said Yacub had created us for weaponry/ Pigment left a cleft in me, genetic heresy/ And since the Caucasian is genetically recessive/ Maybe nature tries to correct it with depression/ Higher than white suicide stats/ But predictable as white suicide raps/ In the name of the father, the son, and holy spirit/ Maybe poly-theistic/ Maybe not, who am I question/ Just another born of a Constantine lesson/ I just do my one-two, and try keep my head up/ Even though things is eating at me on the dead up/ Guess it’s easier to deal with money and security/ And a lover reassuring you, in spite of all the scrutiny/ All of my emotions in the middle of a mutiny/ Lord, what to do with me/ My brother’s got a family, I just got a grudge/ One I cant stop from raking in the mud/ So I go and grab my dawg again, to take another loss again/ That hopefully we gain from, get some people talking, then/ I’ll build another wall within, take another fall with sin/ Like maybe this is all pretend/ So for my next lover, careful what I feel for you/ As I build another cross that I swear is built for two/

Week 29 Withdrawls In Newberry

All in my head, that's all where I stay/ I think, I don't think, I'm at a loss at what to say/ Everything I love, I go and take it for granted/ Pound it into dust, wipe my face with the granite/ Work open heart surgery on this canvas/ No sterilizing, an infection can manage/ Guess I plead for sabotage.../ Guess I fiend for that barrage.../ They tell me lighten up, as if I don't get it/ Like this is all an act, I just need the attention/ Like more than fucking fifty of you pay it a listen/ Yeah....this is all for attention.../ Is there where I stall at?, plateau out/ Where life says time, take the asshole out/ Work job here, job there, fall into obscurity/ Drink up, drug out, friends aren't even sure of me/ Trailer in the cut, smells of urine and liqueur/ Wood panel walls, in need of some fixtures/ Mattress on the floor, ashtray is beside it/ Food on the floor, with the laundry and wiring/ Die of some disease that bleeds out slowly/ So I feel it every day, like a could right o'er me/ And I’ll do it alone......./ Yeah, it'll do it alone/ Sounds fantastic, true asshole fashion/ Just another round of some white trash static/ Write till I’m catatonic ‘tween punching a clock/ Swallow gin & tonic’s, regurgitating the rot/ Swerve, jerk another nerve into to a knot/ As if I’ll find a random word that’ll serve me a stop/ God if you hear me, the joke’s getting old/ Attracting dust mites, maybe gathering mold/ Blather on and on, incoherently rambling/ Now either life’s bad or my sanity’s scrambling/ Or having a tough time with my vanity managing/ Or maybe it’s all just the man in me’s scampering/ Teehee, teehee, Crocker is emo/ Watching Rome burn as I fiddle with Nero/ Impetuous, incredulous, formulating exodus/ Nurse another cigarette and then wrestle with hesitance/ Beat a dead horse, like there’s life left in it/ Soon It’s gonna end, just give me one more minute/ Purse my lips into a grimace while I swallow my Guinness/ And redefine addiction and paying a penance/ Stewing on the seeds and the place where I lost em/ Somewhere between here and a bar down in Austin/

Week 13 Ode To Rappers

Fuck letting up, I'm up too high now/ Year old clothes, but son I'm fly now/ Made too many kites, they stay won't tied down/ I'd speak about rap, but I'd just sigh now/ I'm twenty three years, but I sound like I'm 4-O/ It's Sherlock Crock, in "Where Did The Real Go?"/Faking optimism, like maybe there's still hope/ But truth be told, it's the kids that I feel fo/ I'm saying, it used to mean more right/ Nows it's but a shell like a flag with torn stripe/ Hand me the pistol, I'ma rock her to sleep/ Hear her last words, "I'm bringing Crocker with me/ Have a lil scuffle, watch her jostle with me/ Try as she might she not toppling T/ As she lay in my arms, she tried coddling me/ And with her last breath, said the problem was me/

I Hate Rappers/ Word To Pack FM/ I Hate Rappers/ They sad as sin/
I Hate Rappers/ They a tad too dim/ And with my ink pen/ I'ma tattoo them/

I Hate You Rappers/

You fucking suck/

I Hate You Rappers/

You fucking suck/

I Hate You Rappers/

You fucking suck/

Like to cut out your tounge

And put it next to your lungs/

Brown & Denver (Verse & Hook)

(Intro) /If this my last rhyme, just wanna say what's up/ Brought up in the gravel, with the spit & mud/ Script was kinda shit, but it was us/ Pieces of a family, rinsed in blood/ Heavy water dilute, what can you do?/ Always been the type to just stand and stew/ Sifting through the shit, sort a plan or two/ And eat my heart out, like a cannibal/

(Hook) /So carve yours out and we'll dine together/

/And say a lil prayer bout the time and weather/

/And shine a light up and out when you find forever/

/I said shine a light out when you find forever/

(Verse)/ This town's baring down, and the time is creeping/ Business been leaving, it's all bereavement/ Speak as if it's scenic, but who'd believe it/ Rage against the silence, quietly screaming/ Fuck culture, what culture, our culture is corporate/ Generic, non-descript, vanilla, & boring/ How to quell the unrest, keep em sedated/ The American way of the American layman/ Duh duh duh, duh duh duh/ Get my farmer's tan up and register my gun/ Or totally scope hoes that's down to fuck/ In Mom's Nissan, bitches'll suck/ Rep. the Pub's or Dem like their pubes came in/ Like Pro Choice Or Life is why my bank is breaking/ Boy your attention is ripe for taking/ If it's dramatic, anyone could break in/ Understand the point I'm making?/ I'd blow my head off, but even I'm conditioned/ By the frame of my religion that forced submission/ If I had the nerve, I'd get my noose a cinched in/ And pop a bunch of pills just to ease the tension./But for all my cynicism, I think G-d'll listen/ Even though I’m a goy, gentile born a Christian/ So paint your soul whole, and start a fire/ And say your peace like it’s Edison’s on the wire/ Raise up a stink like you’re burning tires/ And expel what’s expired, gon’ reach up higher/ Tell em that you’re tired of the sires and liars/ Down shit’s creek knee deep in mire/ That’s it’s time a pauper took the king’ s attire/ So either eat a magazine or gon ‘head retire/

Marxist Muzik

Ran I need more beats, heat that'll force streaks/ Awkward like barbecue in Cola. from Maurice/ Bars UT like a whore's teeth, Bey treated with more bleach/ Spit jihad like Gabriel had informed me/ Man kick's dog when it steps on the porch/ Dog leaves, next day, same thing as before/ Moral of the story?/ Hey Rihanna, what is it? you bored?/ Andre bounced, Big Boi is in neutral/ So the Dungeon Family turns & brings out Future?/ Word to Cam', no computer computin'/ I mean sure, there's high, then there's fucking Medusa/ Shyne found Ha-Shem, Loon found Allah/ Mase: Christ, Puff said Ciroc hu Akbar/ I'm skid' with G-Dep in the back of a cop car/ Railing powder cut with the ashes of 'Pac ya'll/

(Hook)
/Egg in the skillet brain, man, this is you/
/Running in place like elliptical's/
/To do anything else, it'd be a miracle/
/Steady claiming I'm too lyrical, claiming that I'm too lyrical/


(Verse 2)
/Same bat time...same bat channel/ Active rap animals shunned  from all of the cameras/ I'm just a hop, skip and a jump/ from when i pop the clip in and I dump/ I got this, hot shit , better watch if I'm in the front/ Exits get blocked off , it's best to be not soft/ The recipe, next to me, is ecstasy's hot sauce/ My flow is a must have, know to give blood baths/ Watch as I bust ass ,if my hands do not touch cash/ The situations thicker than Black Dynamite's mustache/ But what's that , tough task/ Answers I just pass/ This is hard knock rock, y'all little faggots just cut class/ All that goon talk, it appears to be just trash/ When I start my part, it's all retarded, will brawl regardless/ Black Nathan Drake uncharted/ Hunt rappers down like I was Saul of Tarsus/ Just to get all them off the market/ I'm on the road to Damascus to kick some asses /and I'm enhanced with all the world's latest advances/ome asses /and I'm enhanced with all the worlds latest advances/

Save Me A Spot (Verse) - Ghani Gautama

No degrees, guru, or a pastor, or imam/ No shaman, no priest, master, or deacon/ Apostle, I might be, but a martyr like Stephen/ Paul, pick mamup your stones, cause I think it's the season/ 1, 2, mic check, mic test, I left/ I bet, if I step, they'll wish my death/ Think I'm too big for my britches/ Say my vocab comes off as offensive/ That shit is ridiculous, it must a merit a witness/ Denying me the throne as if this was the tempest/ Feeling Zarathustra, I doubt that they'll listen/ Like what's important kids? love or tradition?/

Angels With Dirty Faces

/Twenty minutes till the show, pulling hard on this smoke/ Funny see the roads where they lead and where you go/Sometimes I wish my brother would let go and watch me flow/ I wonder if he'd smile, wanna stop me, say it's dope/ I'm Dylan in my dreams, singing like a rolling stone/ Harmonica a wailin, death is screaming hold the phone/ To me that redefines the definition of shalom/ Chaos that feels controlled, in a moment all your own/ I wanna die on a soapbox, screaming that they know not/ Curmudgeon as an old pot boiling on a stove top/ I just wanna say my piece, bout how I'm never gonna find no peace/ Whether, weed, women, or speed, never be release that I'm gon need/ Like death that greets ur mother after years you seen her suffer/ The calm that washes over, shed a tear, and say you love her/ All the time you spent to be her peace, be her comfort/ It kills to see her go, but even more to see her suffer/
/We all fall short but some of us don't recover/
/Then our wings begin to wilt, thoughts of flying take us under/
/Think of what we were,then take on pity as a lover/
/...Angels With Dirty Faces


/ Like my uncle after money, after prison, he had nothing/ Came out a decade later and he smoked a piece of something/ Robbed of piece of mind, took that stimulant to hug him/ Guess that fact he didn't snitch, didn't mean that peace was coming/ Like my father's mother, who carved a life up out her beauty/ Everybody used to fawn, tell her she should be in movies/ Her vanity was peace, reassurance of her status/ A house, a couple sons, and a husband, she was magic/ Till she discovered he was cheating, the seams were now unweaving/ That anger mixed with hurt, fueled a way for her to even/ So one Sunday after service, she confronts him in the car/ Reaches in the dash, as he sits and stares in awe/ She pulls a pistol out, tears well and start to fall/ Looks him in the eye and then she fires below her heart/ As if to say, in a most vindictive way, you took my peace of mind, but you'll never take my heart/

The Battle For Your Attention

Sum low fidelity heat courtesy of Logik/ Spartanburg to Southside, the Professor & Crocker/ The lesser will object, dwell on the contrast/ But that’ll dispelled with a hail of my bombast/ Hit em with bomb raps, the hydrogen ilk/ Kid think ‘fore you step, let your vitamins build/ Living in inception, wan stifle the real/ But these are real ills with sum frightening stills/ Truthfully, I’m eulogies ahead of you kid/ I’ve killed more dreams than the movies could build/Bars fulla dopamine like Peruvian fields/ You Johnny Depp blow, just a movie for real/ I let go of life in pursuit of my goal/ No job, no degree, just these dice that I roll/ Mother disappointed, Father disappointed/ Whole time with a rhyme, like you sure that is poignant/ Feelings disjointed, I’m off of my axis/ Building a name that you link up with bastard/ Hell, sometimes I ask if it’s tragic/ Then I snap back, relax, and go nurture my habit/ Stricken cataracts, but I’m moving with passion/ Don’t know where I’m going, but you bet that I’m mashing/ In my 91 Honda everyday on the road/ Out hittin up the crew and cultivating these flows/ Guest spots, shoots, press, shows, and the tapes/ And all with no budget, this is straight off the faith/ From respect and friendships, son can you say the same?/Getting mad shit accomplished based straight off your name?/

And fuck your lil crew, they’re a joke to us/ Piff, Smoke, Puff, your're but a toke to us/ Death took a vacay’ and eloped with us/ Then he handed me his hood and said hold it up/ Get toe-tagged and bagged, fucking with me/ Career struck matched and ashed, it’s nothing to me/ And sure I’ma afraid, of your spandex jeans/ Does your mom know you stay Tampax clean?/ Putting on a high heel sandal show/ Walking out with a gay-guy camel toe/ Feel this for for real like patch of Braille/ That your whole life sounds like a massive fail/ Either you can lie or comply with your mind/ But I’ma lay it out truth line after line/ Give a fuck for trends or the signs of the time/ Just understand bitch, Carolina is mine/

Stephen's Fort Sumter Sing Along

/Spartanburg bitch, by now it’s redundant/ But old school smooth like a satchel of hummus/ That old school reach like Dikembe Mutumbo/ Still bout as ugly as the actors in Gummo/ Another battle rap for you to tack on the list hon/ Joint for R. Kells to play iffin’ you’re pissed on/ I’m coming for the throne, give if a fuck who is watching/ Illuminati, Masons, somebody stop me/ You better sacrifice every virgin that’s left/ You’re gonna need the supernatural to put me to bed/ If you hated Pac, you’ll despise my ass/ I’m white, afro centric, and twice as loud/ Straight from a place known for the Klan & the Mills/ Both basically died, but any interest in pills?/ You like Lori tabs? I love Lori tabs! / And fuck window panes, we got wholesale glass/ Ranked last in the union in education/ And first in AIDS transportation/ Dumbest of the dumb, sickest of sick/ A raging hard-on, I’m a belligerent prick/ Vyvanse & Viagra, I’ma fuck her till she’s bleeding/ Think that’s oft-putting, I’ma fuck her still she’s seizing! / The Hills Have Eyes just peek at my populous/ inbred! And we’re gonna fuck your metropolis/

/ Don’t ever come here, lest your handed a pass go/ Paying ten dollars for coffee and I’m the asshole?/ And fuck rap music, I do hip-hop/ You know make real music and watch that shit flop/Intelligent moderate liberal white trash/ Can you say Oxymoron?/ Now Oxycodone?/ Now which one did you know?/ Now who has the problem?/ Tomahawk chop, Chief Jay Strong bow/ B Movie threat, Man you a LawnMow/ Mr. Sandman, bring me some speed/ So they all sing along like a rerun of Glee/ I could speak on the recession and how my chips are failing/ But I’m more interested in gagging Nikki Haley/ She likes tea parties, how bout tea bagging?/ Okay…that was too much?/ Tried breaking us down, now we’re so building/ You nice? You LIE, Senator Joe Wilson/ Um…my swag is so fresh, it’s stupid/ Naw forget all that and just leave “stupid/ Born up in Whitney, but I’m Park Hills raised/ I’m country, I’m urban, I’m scarred as Seal’s face/ Son I’m gonna hit em where the asterisk hurt/ And touch the whole world, no Catholic Church/

Dream Catcher

(Hook)
/Liquid blood spitting up, cigarettes hitting up/ My lungs to start giving up, stress feeling ill as fuck/ Confidence is feeling tough, daring G-d to deal a bluff/ When the fuck does real become real enough?/


(Crocker Verse)
/Funny watch the time go and mar ex winners/ While I sit on more bars than an RX vendor/ Play the back or fade to black, what are you to say to that/ Cause when your run is done, how are you with facing that?/ I'm looking for a shot or two, they snicker it's illogical/ A flicker of improbable, I'll probably apostle you/ Go from Saul to Paul with you, know that that appalls a few/ I'm always gonna stick up in a craw or two/ Don't speak about Yeshua, Hampton, Or Cleaver/ Cause iffin' you do, then you'll be reekin' of ether/ I speak thru receivers, nay turn a believer/ Cause they'd rather appease what they see to be regal/ Fuck it; still I'll seethe thru your tweeters/ And if the record skips, hear me breathe thru the needle/ Hard to catch a dream when the scene isn't peaceful/ It's okay, though, I dunno meaning of equal/

(Hook)
/Liquid blood spitting up, cigarettes hitting up/ My lungs to start giving up, stress feeling ill as fuck/ Confidence is feeling tough, daring G-d to deal a bluff/ When the fuck does real become real enough?/

(Kronkite Verse) 
/Cold as the moment, seems we frozen in time/ I try to keep it cool like frozen key lime pie/ And I try to keep it moving like my busted old ride/
Keep pouring oil in and watch it drag from behind man/ It’s kind of hard act right now a days/ Knowing the inevitable is lying in graves/
And I can give money but not before my lawyer is paid/ And as I cross that finish line, please hold that tape/ Blame all of you, I’ll tell you why if you let me/ It’s friendship that sends ships that leads to forgetting me/ Forget the bullshit pass, quit making me laugh/ Dad said off the toilet, so I got off my ass/ Now it’s on some new shit, imitate the cool kids/ Heard a voice so soothing, telling me to do this/
So like Lebron, I don’t hold no grudge/ I only do what I do to try to hold the trophy up/ 

11-11

/I know you're not single, but is that really important?/ I'm a bit compulsive and am in need of a supporter/ Presence is robust, enhances the night line/ And if life's a gameshow, you resemble a lifeline/ Make time seem a detail utterly minute/ Manipulate rhymes too, how could I not lie truths?/ Conjure a facade to make me seem more presentable/ Straighten up my face and liquidate a miracle/ Words are passe if describing the connection/ Two born out of depression & attention deficit confessions/ The irresistible force meeting the irrefutable complex/ Coupled with speed likings, menthol's, and bomb sex/Probably disregarded whatever the sign said/ For you are a bold phrase in a sea of fine print/ A harmonious voice plucking beauty of nothing/ Maybe I'm too forward but its moving me or something..../

/Conflicted interests, trying to feed our senses/

/I feel your tension, knock at your defenses/

/I see your smile, behind it something pensive/

/ But your two cents, I value more expensive/

/You speak to me in ways, that sickens me to the core/ It tears away at the very image of me, conflicts and so much more/ But to ignore it would be foolish, arrogant, and brutish/ A injustice to the kid inside that's lollipops and tulips/ Supposing you kiss me, but that ain't hip-hop/ That's more Chris Carrabaa, board shorts, and flip-flops/ Robert Smith and shit, make sure the wick is lit/ And in my depraved mind you more than benefit/ You're as scarred as I am, cynical, and untrusting/ And I'd love to see my heart as soon as your done dusting/ Glance at your wrists and know I have my own/ Thinking all life is as mundane as one of my poems/ Boxing up our trinkets, to try and cash them in later/ When we tire of playing the sucker and finally lose our flavor/ Finding the right note, only to bend and mutilate/ But for now I'ma smile until my tooth'll ache/

 

Westside Rejection

/Spartanburg is killing me, bout to make a meal of me/ Blind and paralyzed, just can't get a feel for me/ The clubs don't want me, never try to deal with me/ Can't buy a fan, wont' turn a ear to me/ Reach one, teach one, they tell me that's played out/ Well, what the hell do I say now?/ Point out the obvious, that the game is shit/ So ya'll can turn and respond that I'm a hating bitch/ That I'd sing a different tune if I's making chips/ Man pull a pop rapper and go take a dick/ In every other craft, it's about the skill/ But not rap, it's not about the real/ It's a mouth w/ grills, or a bout with steel/ It's your fly ass bitch and x amount of pills/ Burning disk after disk that I hand for free/ On something so dope that it demands a fee/ All for promotion, that I handle myself/ While trying to stay cool and keep a hand on my health/ The UT joints w/ Diamond, to reppin' my people/ Working the Sessions tape and now prepping the sequel/ Pushing Caleb for artwork, that I can't pay for/ And if I had a job, I'd still pray that I'd made more/ Hell if you hearing this, I pray that you bought it/ Cause I was hard-headed and I dropped outta college/ So instead of a base and letter of scholar/ I decided on a mic and a life as a Crocker/ Thinking show & proves all you have to do/ Exhibit how you spit and they'll stand with you/ Like that really made sense as a man of couth/ Only to be proved as a damn-ded fool/ Been so damn concerned and consumed with truth/ That all of this will prolly go entomb my youth/ Game don't stop though and I won't quit it/ I can't cash out until I up my winnings/ So lock up your daughters and hide your women/ Cause I got at least a couple more rides to finish/ So if this your first time, they call me Terry/ Crocker, Jr. / And if they spit sick, I’m hocking tumors/ From a scene in a state that just might be rumor/ No culture down here 'cept Vic’s & Tea/ Those are sitting high and the drink is sweet/ And I don’t give a fuck what you think of me/ Though its prolly Eminem that you link to me/ So bring the Pabst Blue Ribbon and the Menthol Mavericks/ And lets sing another song about someone’s status/ While they burn another joint of some grade A shit pot/ I'll figure if I'm 3rd Bass or more Kid Rock/ Cause if I'm well spoken, arrogant, and trashy.../ Then opportunity is gonna go right past me/ No box for that, not Crocker rap/ So I'm just gonna spit until a heart attack/ Cause the art of fact, means artifact/ A lie is more cool, but I part from that/ I'm not a part of that/ Them marks is wack/ Bitch the scar on my head's more heart than that/ My bars is that, huh, hard as crack/ That leviathan, lethargic rap/ City tatted on my chest, city standing on my back/ I love this city, but it's a pity that it don't love me back/ Say it's not where you're from son, it's where you're at/ Well it's both to me, and all it does is stare on back/ Say it's not where you're from son, it's where you're at...Well it's both and all it does to me is stare on back/

By G-d Beaumont

With death comes patience, or the other way around/ I like getting up just so I can fall down/ No concern for the clowns, I've endured greater/ Painstaking truths and other violations/ The way she gyrates is feeling quite lovely/ Love her cause she's pretty, hate me cause I'm ugly/ Built up the wall, she'll find no passage/ Honest, I feel more at home in caskets/ Tired of cheating death, or maybe it's cheating me/ Could never understand what God had saw in me/ I hate stupidity which is why I'll brick/ I'm more compound syllables and artsy shit/ Grown tired of the lies and the feeble alibis/ People will deceive you, come at you in disguise/ I hear the tick tick tock on hip-hop hop/ Beat winding down, bout to sti-sti-stop/ Culture is disposable, tell hell with a quotable/ Everything is fiscal, remember what was told to you/ You, have you no quarrel/ Head in the ground, just a trying to burrow/ What is this world, but of mice and men/ I shrug my shoulders and ignite my pen/ Toss back a brew and delight in sin/ Alive in the night to suffice my end/ Fractured my skull and then bled for some hours/ In Room 407, they sought after his power/ To keep my alive see, but I can't die now/ I'm too stubborn, naw, I won't lie down/ Mom gon cry now, but smiled when woke/ Ask me for words, I struggled but spoke/ Why should I live when others had perished/ What can I offer of merit to cherish/ Countless car wrecks, walked away unscathed/ As if I was Baptist, you would’ve sworn I’s saved/ just a miserable fuck, with sum lyrical knux/ Trying to put together sum residual bucks/ Tired of the beaten, path it’s misleading/ Tired of the tired, rappers I be seeing/ Tired of being broke, sick of all the debts/ Tired of Carolina, with nobody that rep/

 

I hate you as much as I hate me/

You fucks suck, you can’t emcee/

Say you spit, welll baby boy try me/

I’ll hook you up, E.R., I.V.’S

I’m the re-incarnate of B.I.G.

Say you best, boy you lying

I am hip-hop self realizing

And the real there’s no disguising

　

　

 

Think I turned a corner, naw I’m still bitter/ Apollo Creed, bad, and far from a quitter/ Self-deprecating, invading your speakers/ You gon feel me, like you feel Jesus/ Sicker than placenta that covers a fetus/ Hell i’d even kick ass as a paraplegic/ I’m an ill conceived notion that’ll grow into infamy/ Here it is folks, a holocaust of a symphony/ This is me cheery, this is my happy/ And if you whats’ up, duck, daffy/ The critics and the cynics bring life to my lyrics/ Their the motivating tool that nurture my spirit/ Never mind the Bollocks, it’s time for some Crocker/ Waiting for a broad, I’m conducting an opera/ There’s a chip on my shoulder the size of Gibraltar/ Combined with the fervor of a nut at the alter/

A shaman's DayDream

(Verse 1)
Succumb to the light if you will/ lay still in the meadow or the field/ And just gaze, quit thinking of the day/ Lose conscious thought and play, if you may/ I prefer to stray, packs privy a mob mind/ That breeds violence that stops time/ Momentarily, I step verily/ To ask that clock if it will marry me/ That way I when die, it comes with me/ Henceforth time stops, and so they'll miss me/ Maybe it's cheap, but we all think that way/ Sometimes/ Chartering narcissism with dumb rhymes/

(Verse 2)
Ripe with vigor and a shimmer of grandstand/ Mumble musings of a damned man/ The silver lining in a gas chamber music/ Nurse a cigarette and just aim for the truest/ Flood memory banks with pleasurable thoughts/ Soon you come to terms with acceptable loss/ Finality takes precedent, that bring hesitance/ So you try for heaven sent for the hell of it/ Look for the well in it, to ease your load up/ I'm lookin' for some bail and shit, to get back tow up/ Release is the key, but where's the perspective/ I must've put mine in my contraceptive/ Enlightened but frightened, commitment's a killer/ A sentence of filler then resentment a steal ya/ Dealin' with the hand you were dealt from the dealer/ Toying with the thought that something is realer/

Gateway

Mutated membranes, many milligrams of speed/ Coded palindromes, cold caches of conceit/ Calculated palpitations, of life fluid try to breathe/ Sit and count the leaves as the smoking makes me wheeze/ On a corner in the city, see the Vic's and Caprices/ Sponsor themed paint job, speakers is beating/ I mean I could never feel what ain't my fabric/ Hell what sum call rappin', I call static/ Feedback, but that ain't the point here/ It's bout reality and how it disjoint here/ Same pubs, same clubs, same lame ass drugs/ That we still take, cause this ain't us/ The same fucking women we seduce between the linen/ Then we frontin' to our friends, that we really pimpin'/ Nursin' up conflict, just out of boredom/ When they said dream big, I ain't think mortgage/ I ain't think kids that I can't see, but half my paycheck goes to support em/ But they ain't my life, but I got homies/ And if I had a wife, man she’d be lonely/

(Hook)
What it is, what it ain’t/

What it is, what it ain’t

Sometimes in my life I forget to give thanks

Spartanburg daybreaks and a jar fulla dank/

I’m just tryna cash out before they break my bank/

Making cents out sense, I’m lost but convinced/ Feel the cost of pretend as the sauce does me in/ Just like Grandpa, Just like Uncle/ In that landslide, exert my muscle/ I just standby, in my struggle/ In my denial, in my bubble/ Hell hath no fury like like a pint of regret/ I mean regret with a bottle and a quivering breath/ Liver on it’s last legs, limited steps/ Eyes piss yellow, but an image of death/ Seen your grand-kid, but don’t remember him yet/ Buried on his birthday, he might live with you yet/ Dwell in adolescence like I'll never grow up/ Negate responsibility with bars I throw up/ Hip-hop bastard, that's all is me/ Brim rose path never seemed too tempting/ I mean there's no doubt that I'm down for the cause/ But that's all pride and pride brings fall/ This shit don't pay homie, just ask Kross/ If bars meant bucks then he would define ball/ But that ain't reality, and that ain't relative/ That’s tryna shove righteous up against your skeletons/

VoRtEx

(Verse 1)
/Mayview St., Eighty-Seven to Ninety-Three/ My mother and my father and my dog and me/ High-top with a rat tail, Bugle Boy jeans/ Fluorescent color tank tops, cool as the breeze/ Just a young couple, gettin' by, and in love/ Both working jobs just to make it enough/ From an infant to toddler, highchair with a bib/ While Lucy, our pit-bull, slept under my crib/ Used to dare anyone to come close to the shit/ Even went at Grandma on a certain attempt/ 'Till 3, was babysat, then Dad fucked that up/ Backed out her driveway and my skull got cracked up/ Four lanes, got the signal it was safe to come out/ Then BAM, Garbage truck about took his son out/ Sewed my brain lining and pieced together my skull see/ And that was the first time the piper tried to lull me/

(Hook)
Into a deep sleep, sounds so perfect/

Recall family, discard verdicts/

And during rapid-eye, I'll pretend it's worth it/

That my only thought, ain't to jerk my curtain/

(Hook)
Through all of that, there was my best friend/ Bonded over bullshit, cartoons, and wrestling/ Our dream was to call Wrestlemania ringside/ Commentated over tapes since we were knee-high/ Day I turned six Mom buried her Pops/ So his mom lit my candles while his family watched/ All the time wrestling, he used to get nosebleeds/ So we’d stop, wet a rag, and then try and control them/ He was there for the marriages, and there for the moves/ And when I got a new brother he accepted him too/ Backed me during beefs, didn’t ask questions/ My dude was blood-kin and a definite blessing/ When I had the 2^nd surgery, my brother was right there/ With a joke gift, laughs, and a smile that my life spared/ Certain shit occurred, most the fault is with me though/ And that’s why certain nights, the guilt won’t let me go/

Iamlogik

(Verse 1) 
/Greetings to the heathens, again it's Stephen/ Flow make em squeamish and in need of treatment/ Gets em stuck like adhesive, them bars is cement/ Hang the flag from my penis and then pledge allegiance/ What in the world has been left with meaning/ Hell they demoed sum towers just to fuck your feelings/ Then blamed extremists just to keep you reeling/ And they call me a kook, if I believe they're dealing/ With foreign governments, as together they're stealing/ Through what they buy wholesale and mark up for the needy/ But Greed isn't real, that's just a conspiracy/ You would never do that, the whole thing is heresy/ My country 'tis for free, well, damn near close too/ Just buy our debt, you'll be bi-coastal/ And yo, that's cool right/ Be as safe as 2-Pac and Suge Knight/ Never color with me, man, believe it's a class thing/ So if you're above middle, there's not a point in you asking..../ Not a thing of relation/ Cheers to recent uprisings, that's all that I'm saying/ Why shoot a cop, I'd rather a banker/ Citibank, Lehman Brothers, all the cantankerous/ Coke sniffing fucks, that gamble with people/ Foreclose on their haystack, and just leave em with needles/

(Hook)
/ That is not a noose, that's a halo with string/

/That's not an angry mob, that's a choir that sings/

/Not a volatile bomb, that’s just a bell that rings/

/Funny you don't look as high as you seem/

/And the grass is blue, the sky is green/

/ Now left is right, and you look up at seas/

/Now wrong and right fit seamlessly/

/Funny you don't look as high as you seem/

(Verse 2)
/Four dollars a gallon and you’re not pissed off? / Where’s your lanterns? Where’s your pitchforks? / You just point a finger at someone piss poor/ And that’s half the reason I ask what I spit for/ What’s the purpose, it’s worthless, lip service in verses/ Maybe deserving, but it washes out like detergent/ So pretend that I’m nervous, un-assured of the curses/ So it seems I’m uncertain, scared, subject to blurting/ Maybe then, you might pay a bar some attention/ Like it’s Wet Topless Night with a gaggle of women/ Then I’d have a shot to really haggle with timid/ People average and annoyed I play scrabble with lyrics/ Those who won’t acknowledge that I unravel the linen/ Might finally listen and watch all be forgiven/ Shiiit…like that might happen/ Like I won’t be labeled just a dumb ass rapper/ Perish the thought, of uninhibited truth/ Coming from a brash white trash belligerent youth/ Let em do they’re dance, do it just like Humpty/ While I build a bomb and pretend that I’m Chuck D/

Fonk In (Intro)

Carolina-Queens connection, no further objections/ I'ma spin a couple tales about lessons, depression/ Obsession, reflections, affection, dejection/ And every bit encapsulated in all of my blessings/ So with no ado, may I present my collection/ Of antiquated standards that left my profession/ That Moe Dee in 83, bet that he bust raw/ Some ol’ one-two, that I’m gon' dust off/ That uncut crack smell that you can’t musk off/ With the only other face that they’ll carve on Rushmore/

AstroBump

(Verse 1)
/Peaked, geeked, and tweaked, but what else is new/ late night writing to expel the truth/ People always asking what the hells with you? / I nod and respond, “What’s the hell with you?”/ I mean it’s gotta be something right/ And Lord knows that it’s gotta be nothing nice/ Such and such beefing, I beef with my state/ Beef with the government, I beef with my race/ Say am I Cherokee? Irish? English? Or German?/ Caucasian or White? And how am I certain?/ Which box do I check that certifies me a person?/ Why the fuck do I feel that this is all coercion/ Ah fuck it, it’s nothing, it’ll never be something/ I just grin and I bear it, young Theodore Ruxpin/ The Tommy Mottola of the Never Be Soldiers/ No likeness, the nicest, of the couldn’t be colder/ The composer of closure, the tail end of a nova/ Burnt out in a bag that is whiter than Sosa/ Red rover it’s over, I will never be sober/ The dopamine’s holding me, face next to the motor/ Ayo Chris, this cannot be healthy/ Mama, I’m a bum, I’m only character wealthy/ Kross, I’m a loss, dead weight on a anchor/ I mean, yeah I got bars, but they’re bars fulla rancor/ People don’t hear me, and if they do, then they shudder/ I’m offensive and I’m pensive, they just stare and they mutter/ World to Shannon Darlene, son, that’s word to my mother/It’s like they’d rather see me choke, stop, stammer, & stutter/ Feel like a misfit, like the Jerry Only/ Plus I’m a Junior as well, the weight of Terry’s on me/ The sins of the father, rain down as I ponder/ Sit somber and conjure, and keep a eye for the mamba/

(Hook)
/ Consume breath, use death, no idea of me/

/Two steps, goose neck, no identity/

/ Clue-less, who reps, my idea of me/

/Useless, Confucius, my identity/

/Bobby Seale spittin ills, my idea of me/

/Bein’ broke with the chills, my identity/

/More than real but concealed, my idea of me/

/ Left field, as I build, my identity/

(Verse 2)
/Long for righteousness, lemme know it you catch it/ The plate’s comin’ round drop sum bills for collection/ Nibbling on some caps, to find the higher astral plain/ The fifth dimension, heaven, hell it grabs you all the same/ Just to peek behind the curtain, know for certain that its worth it/ Nay be a journey worthless, its all how you interpret/ But to see the inner-working and know I didn’t deserve it/ Would negate all of my purpose, and send me back to the service/ The Pastor & The Pulpit, The Deacons & The Heathens/ The blood of Christ substitute specially sweetened/ Judgments yet to come, yet I have to see them through/ But does God have a bracelet asks, “What Would Jesus Do?”/ Meditate on that/ I don’t claim a religion, I’m just one of his children/ Another made in his image tryna find some forgiveness/

BiT bY bIt

(Verse 1)

/Two tone Terry, race traitor, play savior/ Listen, they say later, treat me like gay neighbor/ Outcast, not looked upon with the same favor/ Say I'm the correct spelling of Fiasco's "Lasers"/ Driven off emotion, that's what the speeds for/ Uncomfortably funny, like messiahs and street whores/ If you aren't original, the hell you speak for?/ Always thought that I might mean more/ (Hook) /Scarlet letter symphonies /Sleep deprived epiphanies/ Adrift in all the industry/ /Dope but yet I’m sick of me/ /Time’s acquired a stitch from me/ /A quip, a lick of spit from me/ Convinced that I’m the industry/ /Dope but yet I’m sick of me/ (Verse 2) /Instead I live in my head, speak the color of red/ No gang, it’s for the blood that almost led me to bed/ Feeding demons cheap pints while I’m swallowing smoke/ Hollowing hope as I write, ears following notes/ Beer stained roots run deep, in the premature trees/ Burn, coupled, pops from the premature seeds/ Plain black tee, khaki shorts to the knee/ Dressed down as the sound that speaks from under me/  (Hook) /Scarlet letter symphonies /Sleep deprived epiphanies/ Adrift in all the industry/ /Dope but yet I’m sick of me/ /Time’s acquired a stitch from me/ /A quip, a lick of spit from me/ Convinced that I’m the industry/ /Dope but yet I’m sick of me/ (Verse 3) Living life close to edge/ Am I living? Or am I closer to dead?/ The cost of living is goin' over my head/ I can't even call it/ Can't even tell if I've been flying or falling/ Can't even tell if they lying or ballin'/ Ya'll call it/ I'm tryna Shyne, like that dude that did time for Puffy/ And I want cream, so the fucking FEDS can't touch me/ Is that too much to ask? Is it too much for cash?/ Is it..just so bad, to live just for flash?/ Tired of havin' to heat up a flask/ Out of cheddar, on the block, with a Glock/ To heat up yo ass/ Whether I sing, rap, draw/ Usually 'cididy n***a/ Now this shit is just raw, now I'm just a gritty n***a/ All my thoughts, usually/ Is computated and overrated/ Now it's just complicated...and I hate it/ I can't even sit back, I can't even relax/ Now I'm lookin' for doors to kick back/ And kids to kidnap/ Ya'll best believe that/ It's gonna get rougher this year/ A whole lot tougher this year/ Ya'll motherfucker's finna suffer this year/

PaRaDoX (Interlude)

Another one bites the dust/ Lust turned love, hits the floor with a thud/ Mustard seed faith proved nary enough/ Play it close to your chest, exterior tough/ Interior redecorate, your heart in your throat/ Scrub it when it falls, use plenty of soap/ Wash away the marks, no evidence left/ Then move past closure, go with hesitant steps/ I’ma try make sense, recollect the events/ Span us rolling in the grass to you hoppin’ the fence/ The blame is irrefutable/ I love you but my actions inexcusable/ It wasn’t equal, I was selfish, apologies there/ Didn’t listen, pay attention, act of modestly care/ Hooker headed, we’re both fucked/ Showed so much, then I sewed shut/ I’ll honestly miss the honesty, the humor and wit/ The passionate climaxes, room fumed with the scent/ The fact that I never felt you move to pretend/ I’ll probably playback, I’ll try and move when it ends/ Here I lose a lover, a partner, and friend/ Result of my mistake to go and scoff at the bend/ Once again I’ll try and measure cost of a sin/ Say my piece and see another tomb off in the wind/

Devil In A New Dress

They tell me that I'm arrogant/ I say I gotta be, I'm a bastard, and it's time for parent shit/ Who else SC as me, say it like I'm daring them/ These John Does lack the defintion for comparison/ The 13th disciple, Chris Rock Shit/ Father, pardon, but they can kiss Crock's dick/ With a hurricane dame, tell FEMA stop this/ I could sport a kilt and still be the loch ness/ Tired of being overlooked and underestimated/ I'm too fly bitch, you just levitating/ Scream South Crack till it's resonating/ Till they follow Crocker with I swear I hate him/ My undertaking/ Would burn Palmetto with a stripper in stilletoes/ Her dark chocolate fingers bustin down the cigarello/ Used to make love untill her strut stuttured/ Till she screamed and then her cunt fluttered/ Asked if I was jealous, said baby I'm a rapper/ Asked if I was salty, well I am a cracker/ What's the South without Carolina/ Like a Dutch without marijuana/ Am I hot? no I'm a walking sauna/ Exude heat over looseleaf, phosporous flow/ Dr.King in me got a prosperous glow/ Followed by your ho-hum monotous shows/ No pass,don't match the comoposite of soul/ Turned the game into a place where you deposit your soul/ So I crawled up out of my sarcophagus gold/

 

/Isis tried Osirus me, but that was one chapter/ Say life a bitch, so then I run past her/

You're only as big as the goal that you come after/ So when you say Spartanburg , you think one rapper/

The Song You Asked Me To Write

/Let's take it from the top, a young girl with a mother/ Father and brother, as she tucked beneath the covers/ Momma hits the wind not a hint or explanation/ Barely out of a diapers, facing hesitation/ Keeps a brave face though Daddy don't speak much/ Wonders bout her mother and why she would leave us/ Daddy doesn't she need us/ I'm 4 years old, how couldn't she see us/ Momma comes back but to sign the papers/ Finalize the divorce and the visitation/ Daddy remarries and extended the family/ Was subdued by subtraction, now new to the adding/ Loves the replacement, but longs for the real one/ Struggles with her doubts but continues to build them/ Shielded by her smiles and the cloak the she clutches/ Disguised, says she fine, not needn't for nothing/

Shame when your shamed into changing your name/

Bar out of reach, rearranging some things/

Explaining this is life, not the same as a game/

So whose dreams do I reach for?/

*Repeat*

   

Finally a teen, she's becoming a lady/ Let go of momma, ain't thought of her lately/ Head down at home, still seen as the baby/ Cuts now and then, thinks as her pain bleeds/ Tries to keep it cool, though shes forced fake dates/ In and their out, keeps em moving with great haste/ Hits a bowl or two, young, knows who she wants more/ Get cute, catch a boot, straight out the front door/ School ain't enough, prefer some alone time/ But she's kept busy, knows nothing of own time/ Caught with her friend, daddy gave her the first one/ But promise if she slipped, the next'd be the worst one/ Damned if she does, damned if she don't/ And damned is the hand that extends and points/ Tries her luck again, but this one's official/ He flips, screams at her, and starts waving a pistol/

Things I Should Not Say

 

TThey ask me what I mean, what I know of the culture/ Staying picking my brain, carcass and vultures/ Alka Seltzered out, so tired of the aching/ Unless 'Ran come back, ya'll primed for the taking/ Ride of your life, I'ma beef till it's bacon/ So titillating, the thought be amazing/ Rappers so funny, try move me with looks/ Kid, killing themselves, they Rufio , and I'm Hook/ Stare and they look, wonder my motives/ Say on I'm on a incline, then why the erosion/ So hard to keep footing without a support beam/ Call my label owner but now he ignores me/ Album bout finished, but that's on the shelf now/ Chain-smoking heavy, two seconds from meltdown/ Child nearing birth, chance that I fathered it/ Pray that it's not, pray that it's preposterous/ Probably a cop-out, but had to acknowledge it/ Me and her mother cool but I ain't for a father look/ Prisoner of the cycle, ask mine bout fatherhood/ I"m too immature, can't do what a father should/ Got me thinking bout exes and scares that we shared/ Things that I said and then how they would tear/ Them all to pieces/ Too fucking selfish, for even my fetus/ Fuck it I'm leaving/ Here me say it now, but you're why that I'm breathing/ Self made martyr, can't stand how they treat you/ Can't let em do it, can't see em defeat you/ You never left me, goddammit I need you/ They lines nauseate, man it's sick what they feed you/ Just wanna stomp em out, grind em out with a cleat shoe/ They fish on the yard and baby I see food/ I scream Sparkle City, South Crack till my voice gone/ Ask em who the best, they act like the choice gone/ Who else spit bars like they live with Tourette's/ Shit I'll even take a breather and I'll give you a sec/..../ And that's what I thought kid/ If my competition cold, you bet that I'm frost bit/ See, my deoxy ribo nucleic acid/ Is of a born alone, stand alone, die alone bastard/ They rhyming poems tragic, elementary shit/ And I hope every bit of this offending you bitch/ You can pretend that you this, pretend that you that/ And of every bit of that'll never hide that your wack/ I raise the bar you couldn't reach with a step stool/ Two time stretcher, I'm the reason that death cool/ Automatic bars, man you see how I wet fools/ They talk a lil shit and I'm spitting a cess pool/ Romancing the stone, I'd beg for your best jewel/ Hear it, laugh, and probably forget you/ Probably feel even dumber man, if ever I met you/ I give em gourmet bars, and yours barely is pet food/Whenever I spit it riles up a spectacle/ Whenever you spit, we beg for receptacles/ I'd rather than dope than broke, despondent soaked in hope/ Than told be told I just went gold, with no artistic scope/ Cats couldn't flip words with thesauruses and trampolines/ Pantomiming fucks acting as if they act is mean/ Walk up smiling, dapping me/ When if I wasn't for good judgment I'd grab clips and unload magazines/ Talking skills, a chance in hell that your surpassing me/ You'se is gluteus maximus; I mean your ass to me/ I'm varsity, you JV, not in a class as me/ You'se a travesty, tragedy, actual faggetry/ Another dumb bitch caught up in the pageantry/ Another dumb bitch to fall prey to my savagery/ Name another cat here that has my kind of tenacity/ Another asshole with my my pomposity/ To step up and put down real brass tax with me/ Villainous vocab, the definition of apogee/

The Pot & The Kettle

/Another night, another womb, another tomb/ Drink as I, fill another womb/ She replies I'm coming soon/ Then longs for me, as I leave the room/ Cycle is repeated, oh repetition/ Manic depressive mission, feeling defenseless/ Inward tension, numb incisions/ Swayed another from indecision/ And when I hold her, I get colder/ Shunning the angel, atop my shoulder/ She wants embrace, I want a taste/ Touching her face, it's a disgrace/ Without compassion, flees with action/ Lust is gnashin, I'm ecastatic/ She's my lover, I'm her bastard/ Weigh on her forever after/ First I build it, then I kill it/ The pirate of love, here to pillage/ Breathe the smoke, to ease my conciense/ Smother honest, broke the promise/ If ugly's ironic, then I'm Adonis/ And with her body, she'll pay homage/ Keeps returning, like I'm astonished/ But her love, I can't acknowledge/

 

/Frustration, sedation/ Caught up in the trap of this self-seperation/ Who are you to judge, you rolling blunts/ Poppin beans and in debt for fronts/ Arm in a sling pointin out my crutch/ Working up the gall to use the word enough/

 

/Oh depresion, love depression/ Hug depression, stuff depression/ In these bottles, whether pills or liquour/ Pierce me, subdue me that much quicker/ See Em & Roth, and still you stall/ Where's the club shit, the fuck you on?/ I'm not Marshall, no synonym/ I'm just Crocker, he can have Eminem/ What about girl, and what about her/ You can't keep a broad, much less Spartanburg/ Seeking redemption thru your words/ Your so contrived, dumb, disturbed/ Teeter totters throughout my head/ Ask me again, why Matthew left/ Fifteen years and your brother steps/ So tired of that song, wanna push eject/

/Cheers to the child my lord had taken/ For the man I killed, flew away that April/ For my self-deprecation that enables/ For my free fallin when he rocked the cradle/ For hearts I took and smash to pieces/ People I love decayin' and fiending/ Family fighting diseases/ Fibro, hepatitis, and H.I.V./ Face withered so much you can't I.D./ Lest I mention addiction, sickening friction/ Opiates, dopamine/ Barbituates and Coca Beans/ Morphine patches, mid afternoon relapses/ Another forty, fallin' backwards/ Hit's the ground, pulse collapses/ All this shit is awfully taxing/

 

Catharsis (Trying To Find A Balance)

(Intro)
/ I love a menthol cigarette/ I'm pretty simple actually/ Sex, Nicotine,& A Microphone/ Content with being alone, as long as there’s music/ My friends in a cipher critiquing self indulgent trends/ It provides a means to an end/ Down with industry and the players involved/ But if it falls, what's left to bitch about?/How about each other, but that's too easy/ I'm too self-righteous and obsessed with sleazy/ Maybe I'll rediscover context/ Maybe I'll take another bong rip and laugh at Glen Beck/

(Verse 1)
Live from a state that is redder than yours/ Trying to find something subjective in The Cure/ One Blink record away from getting Pompous/ Cutting all my hair off, maybe running for office/ Fashion a cheap pipe, enroll in college/ Start a Panther chapter and distribute some knowledge/ Talk about my hate for whitey, though I'm Caucasian/ Bereft of self-loathing, bitch I'm amazing/ Twenty-three, attitude, and nothing to offer/ Except a dope rhyme and misdemeanor charges/ Defaulted debt and my guise as an artist/ Eyes full of arson and the prize of regarded/ First my city, my state, and then maybe my region/ Such a tall order for god-less heathen/ Not much left but the honest reason/ I can't promise much, but I promise Stephen/

(Hook)
In a haze of love and hate, I feel the lesser/ Tell me life's a bitch, my goal's to undress her/ Talk her into sex, then fuck her on the dresser/ This here is my catharsis/
*repeat once*
(This here is my catharsis)

(Verse 2)
/If I go over your head, I'm sorry your stupid/ Maybe pick up book, maybe you use it/ Insult the people, that's helluva tactic/ Son check the tape, Crocker Is A Bastard/ I think I'm Bobby Seale, Huey Newton/ Fake Larry Hoovers are just Looney Tunesin/ I say, where the hell is a movement/
/Tweet: Feeling used and unusually lucid/ Remember looking up to Hogan and M.J./ Now I'm an asshole and their disciples of Bengay/ Student of the game, but I'm lacking a sensei/ With a pen so moody you would swear that it menstruate/ Apple Pie Hooch & a carton of Mavericks/ The label of G.O.A.T., and beside it an asterisk/ Hope they speak of me, even when I'm in past tense/ Be a lot of things, but never your average/

(Hook)
In a haze of love and hate, I feel the lesser/ Tell me life's a bitch, my goal's to undress her/ Talk her into sex, then fuck her on the dresser/ This here is my catharsis/
*repeat once*
(This here is my catharsis)

The Single

/Truth is I hate you, yeah, you that listens/ But my label says chill, wants to scrap my image/ Says you could give a damn for all my difference/ Says you'd would pay attention if some hits were written/ Said thats whats up, scratched my nuts, and then I ripped out my heart again/ Started out Motorhead, then ended up Cardigans/ And if I'm too wordy.../ Then I'll wear that early, least ya'll heard me/ It's unnerving, I keep blurting/ They m-squared, I'm a emcee searching/ pen a def jam, not a L.A. Reid hit/ Turned their swag on, but then I ain't see shit/ If thats what it takes, then I don't need this/ Matter fact, get fucked, and dismount my penis/ this here'll be a hoe down with my demons/ and after I thrown down, you can bet I'm leaving/

Light up my cigarette, be done with dinner yet/

I get tired of seeing dawn/

Eyelids stretching, Mild depression/

Glued to the screen as I write a song/

Down in the dixie, the view so's scenic/ But there's no scene, not for what I'm weaving/ Worn tapestries from the same ol fabric/ Three piece with a liquor flask, age old sabbath/ A young cottontail tryna fuck like rabbits/ Pocket tucked habits, outta luck magic/ It's all, it's all but a passing thing/ Just a young bastard tryna cash his dream/ Finger rolled point fives, ash in streams/ Put my headphones on and try tax my scheme/ Deal with old friends wanna laugh at me/ Say you still rappin, you sappy Steve/ Too many hits to the noggin/ You ain't dark, boy, kill that jargon/ Respond with that prolly problem/ Too much trauma, now my heads too hardened/ But damned if you tell me I ain’t no artist/ Finnin you step and beg my pardon/