1. |
Lay Claim
02:14
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I would have thought by not I'd know more than I do.
Despite my limitations, I'm still making do.
Peace to the teachers in my life, all praise is due.
For those things that I have learned I have gratitude.
I'm slow and steady when it comes to my pursuits.
I'm good and ready when I finally make a move.
I relish the chance to be out here paying dues.
I feel so blessed to still be here and making tunes.
I'm relying on luck, and in luck, I trust.
I refuse to let the planet make me hate my own guts.
I trust that I'll wriggle out the bind when I feel stuck.
I can't tell you what's divine, but I can feel it in my blood.
Filling up my cup, shaking off the rust.
Early in the morning while I'm strolling with my mutt,
I take an inventory of the stress I'm holding up.
For this I keep a couple affirmations in the tuck.
I take aim, I lay claim
To my lane.
To stay sane can't stay same.
I make a change.
I take aim, I lay claim
To my lane.
To stay sane can't stay same.
I make a change.
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2. |
Sick Days
01:25
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Mixtape full of clickbait.
It's just a list of celebrities over 6'8".
Producers hate him, want him ix-nayed.
I've got more flows than company-paid sick days.
Uhh, use 'em or lose 'em.
Loops? He can choose 'em,
Hopes nobody sues him.
Doesn't hold grudges even if you poo pooed him.
Pull up puffing on a stogie like Duke Nukem.
Jackie Moon how I'm coming for jejunums.
Goal twofold: entertain 'em and confuse 'em
Like an optical illusion.
I get 'em jumping to my comical conclusions.
Loose change in a tight grip.
I'm writing this on the couch watching White Chicks;
I still love that movie.
Bumping yacht rock with my brothers puffing doobies.
The point of life still eludes me;
The type of nihilistic that considers that a cool thing.
The drums go how the mood swing,
And they fit everything that the dude sings.
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3. |
Rap Practice
01:50
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When the simulation crashes
It's unlikely he'll have ever made a classic.
Failed to target the masses or any demographic.
He made only what he wanted to to, and that's it.
I've had this principle guiding my rap practice
Since right around the time SoundCloud eclipsed Datpiff
That it would be tragic if I started rapping
For anybody other than the one that I inhabit.
Imagine me making a track I don't dig.
Imagine not wanting to bump your own shit.
Imagine spending even a single second of life
Making art without your heart in it. It isn't right.
Well, the only exception is if you need the bread bad;
Any other reason might be tied for dead last.
And I gotta say there's many better ways to get cash;
Everybody and their mother seems to rap nowadays, it's wack...
Anywho, try not to experience too many moods.
At the shows I rap at you tend to find many dudes;
No chicks, no shit, have you heard it?
I moved by the park I might have to start birding.
I've been flirting with unburdening my person.
Merging with immersive 3D worlds will not be worth it.
I used to get nervous, thinking I don't have a purpose.
Now I pause and take a couple deep breaths when the nerves surface.
I glide by, paper plane.
Move at my patient pace.
Chomping on ancient grains.
See me and they complain.
My my, they're so lame.
So into placing blame.
They're running basic plays.
Hit 3, Mike Breen go, "BANG!"
Oh man, that's him.
6'2", barely touch rim.
No six-pack won't see no gym,
Still get by with a handsome grin.
Insole for the arches.
Made this in my apartment.
Hit the eagle on the par 6.
My pen where the bars is on the parchment.
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4. |
Hackin' Away
02:21
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How much in life is make or break?
That broken feeling tends to fade away.
Gets folded up into a paper plane.
14th and 1st, dollar slice, paper plate.
The future might be made of clay.
Everything's on the table under the paperweight.
I was pressing my enemies; had to make em pay
Then I bricked the finger roll on the breakaway.
The only option is to make a way.
Never hate the human hate the state of play.
Some success is illusion—pure pay to play.
I'm on Bergen and Flatbush by that bagel place.
What if I disappeared like David Blaine?
What if I'm 0s and 1s in some database?
Never sip the Kool-Aid, skip the haterade.
My next shit is my best shit that I've made to date.
I'm still here, still hackin' away,
Excavating in the back of the brain.
Just another rat in a maze
Who thinks he has something to say.
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5. |
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6. |
Already
01:22
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7. |
Plain Cheerios
01:02
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8. |
Like Minds
02:08
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9. |
Brittle Brain
01:16
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10. |
I Am Amazing
02:32
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