My name is Danny Manning, baby, and I'd just like to spit at ya And it's not art or poetry, fuck, it's not even literature But I think you'll still enjoy it, nice and steady as we go You will get lost in the flow, I am sure, even though I look nothing like a rapper – I'm a six-foot bag of bones, Scrawny as I was when I was still livin' at home. Still can't grow a beard, not even scruffier than most – Worst of all, my skin in paler than a motherfucking ghost. But I'll still haunt ya if want ta, I could keep the party dancin' Don't get scared by my hair, it's been compared to Charles Manson, I'm just a psycho on the dance floor and I only murder verses, So take a step closer while I unsheathe my cursive. Finally old enough to swear – to let go these curses, So fuck, shit, damnit! Sorry, Mom, I know you heard this. I'm dustin' off my notebook, yeah, I saved it from the catacombs Of phosphorescent adolescence. Now I'm fully grown. I'm still the same ugly kid, same first and last name – Twenty-two now – 8 years since I broke up with the rap game, But hip-hop's a sultry mistress, and she's sayin' I just can't miss this So I'm back with bigger bones to take her home and pull her hips in! These words should be evidence that now I've lost my innocence. Fuck getting intimate with rap, I'll flip the mattresses. Seduction is my function when these pages are my boudoir. So when I'm scratchin' syllables, the scratches turn to new scars. Too far? Never, I just ache for cold showers, 'Cause I'm full of piss and vinegar and lots and lots of gun powder! Rap's my babygirl after a long separation. At my haven, music, love, it's the same what I am makin'. I was fourteen years of age last time I stabbed in the dark With my ballpoint pen, just trying to build the ark Out of scrawny, scribbled letters and my dreary, weary sentiments. Two of every word to take me past bland linguistics. Letters drip from my lips – half-wits from my sick brain. The drugs took the other half and left me with this mixtape. But I'm pretty much just doin' this so girls will think I'm cool, Because I'm tired of being that idiot sitting outside of the pool: Shirt off, trunks up, flabby guts hangin' out – With my tongue licking at nothing but the inside of my mouth. So turn this shit up and meet me drinkin' in the deep end. I'll be creepin' with my floaties, telling all the girls to leap in. I'm not stoppin' till the week ends; till my vision's wet and blurry, just Party till my nerves are bust, and I've got hypothermia. We dry ourselves off and clap our hands: here WE go! Shout out all the words and you will validate my ego! But Lord knows that I don't need it: I'm a rockstar on the weekends, And I consume compliments like they will cure my weakness. But by Monday I am fiending for a word spoken kind To put my dreary soul to rest, relax my worried mind! 'Cause it's a hard-knock life, bein' brought up in the 'Burbs. That's a lie, I'm spoiled and white, it was Easy Street for sure. I've never done an honest day's work; never suffered hard labor; Never toiled till my hands hurt; never hustled for the paper. I can't change your oil, I can't even change your tire, But I'll bust some 401 shit when your ass wants to retire! But now I'm knee-deep in the mire. I'm entrenched in the thickets Of the homelessness and loneliness. The saddest and the sickest. There is only endless pavement – there is no greener grass For the hunched and huddled mass reaching up to middle class. I will wave as I pass – soft hands, with no callouses, And I will not get sleep back home on fancy mattresses. It's a hard world out there. How come no one ever told me? I was fed a softened truth along with white bread and bologna. But oh me! Oh, my, this does not make me a phony. And you're free to disagree, but bitch, you can gently blow me. 'Cause we all got problems, but, I have the solution! We all have the poison in our mind: the pollution! It's in the words that you write. It's in the truths that you will find. So you can listen or don't listen. Fuck. Either way is fine. Has anyone checked the time? This rap is turning to a ramble Of belligerent bullshit. I'm afraid I start to babble. Let me scramble with these words and see if I can make it stronger. 04:45? Okay, I'll make it longer! So let's hear you scream louder, baby. Praise me, fucking praise me! It seems that I'm need of it. I'm so self-deprecating. I'm a vain motherfucker – only care about superfluous Matters. What of the universes that gave birth to us? Time and endless space, and galaxies that keep the sky bright. I just really want to know if I am getting laid tonight. Hey, babe! Whaddya say? My belly's big and soft like gelatin, And the rest of me is white and bony as a fucking skeleton. Alright now, that's enough. You know my name and my appearance, And you know if you're not praising me, then I don't wanna hear it. But you know that I will do my best to greatly entertain, And I will gladly buy your drinks in exchange for your name. It's a shame that I've been gone for so long, but now I'm back, And the beat drops here to take us to the next track.

A shout-out to Akeem Go Hard Motherfucking Ferguson I heard the din, it made me want to straight-up just go murderin' This thinly-lined paper, and baby, it can't escape the Viciousness of the picturesque images portrayed By the scribbled mess my hands produce with such finesse, yes! I'm a limitless lyricist – my pen connects, your ears digest. My spirit manifests into these endless corridors Shaped by the music: one beat and four chords. This ink is burning hot, I'm scratchin' holes into these pages. When my mouth makes the words, you see my lips just goin' apeshit! I rap with an ancient spirit – I'm an old soul, Travellin' at hyper-speed like fucking Han Solo! Oh no! A Star Wars reference, But I'm just old and ill enough to pull it off, so check it. I'm thirsty, I'm about to bounce and binge quick – I'm not James Brown, but I'll still take you to the bridge, bitch. They say that nice guys finish last, but you best watch your ass, Because I'm coming for you, baby, smiling/waving as I pass. I'll monopolize with manners – hear the clamor of my syllables. I blow glamorous cannabis and words that make you bend and fold. It's not about my ego, though I do enjoy strokin' it, Your lame flow is pussy. I politely blow holes in it. Miles of Smiles – I keep the hate safe at bay. So please enjoy these rhymes and have a great fucking day. Don't give a fuck about the game, just want to prove that I could do it, Hear “Ohoho shit!” come straight from Ruben. When I'm cruisin', play this new shit, the police will make no errors, just Hear it, haul me in and call me then a fucking terrorist. Homeland hates it – I've got pages full of bombs. Atomic alphabet – Plutonium-filled phrases in my songs. So put this CD on repeat, and please turn up these bangin' beats, And we will slowly set fire to these motherfuckin' streets! My words are just bullets spraying through this 10-inch glass, Yes, these lyrics are just spirits causing planes and trains to crash. When I rap, hear the buildings as they crumble and collapse – I leave nothing in my path but black frames and metal scraps. I scratch flames into the backs of these pages, folded tightly, Neatly, nicely in the pockets of the tights jeans I wear nightly. When I'm striding, there is lighting, 'cause these pants is on fire! But don't you dare be fooled, baby, I am not a liar. I shout the truth from the roof! I will bring this game to ruin! I will rattle lots of fears, but the ears will still tune in! And I know you'll get on me and you will spit on me, But you motherfuckers know you ain't got shit on me! I will destroy! I will destroy! From nation to nation, 'Cause mainstream rap is bullshit, and destruction's my creation.

I watched the world crash behind the glass of my windowpane I saw the people panic, mouths full of dirt and shame I saw the massive unrest spread through a hundred thousand chests I watched people send people to a Godless fuckin' death. I was just a little boy, taking life at full speed Lost in the country of the ghosts and the thieves. It's a thin, grim world, and it's a ghoulish universe. Yes, dogs eat dogs, and rats reach for the purse. They traded silver for their souls! They traded paper for their hearts! And everyday I watched The World slowly tear itself apart Seated at my vantage, yes, much to my advantage, yes, I watched it all happen from behind my window's glasses, it's All I can ever do when the mobs start to throng – I just throw my headphones on, and I softly sing along. When you're young the world is scary. You get old, it's fucking crazy! It ain't too much to say that, baby, hip-hop raised me. I had my mother and my father, but these authors and these prophets Speak of profits – how to live it up. Not givin' up or stoppin'. True poets of my day – my soul devours what they say. It made it easier for this kid to cope with endless skies of gray. So a shout-out to BIG, and a shout-out to Pac, And all those from the underground who just will not stop. I may be white on both sides, but I recognize the struggle, And, today I understand that the modern man must hustle. I can hear my city scream like it was all a dream, But I protect my fuckin' neck with eyes focused on the cream. These are lessons that I learned – yes, things you can't teach, And it was knowledge that I earned, though I'm from suburban streets. It keeps me safe from the hate this city blows through my body Like the blast from a Goddamn double-barrel shottie. Hip-Hop is no longer on the radio All these kids in need of words will still find ways to play it, though. I Always wanted to flow – to be the emcee with the illest rep Today there's trashy airwaves – AutoTune: the death of intellect. Am I wrong to say I'm not the rap game's whore? I will not insert here some lame sex metaphor. I'll change the rules and change the score. I won't invent scenarios. I won't brag when I rap about plowing through some trashy ho's. That shit won't keep you warm when the wind starts to shriek. I sleep alone or not at night – the point is that I sleep. You can keep those flows going, man, only so far Before those ho's you've been blowing can't care about your car, You superstar! You feel cool with that grill? I'll spit ammo from enamel till careers are killed. Please excuse the venom that I place between these notes, Because these lyrics are the poison, but they also are the antidote. I choke on what you wrote till I can no longer breathe. I will not be an emcee if it means bein' in your league. Let's have the words back, please, let's have the bitter poetry That my childhood heroes just spit so free. Let's set our souls loose and, start the revolution Before we all drown, baby, down in the pollution. If not, I will keep writing. You will find these worried sounds And my arm-bound army will be heard from the underground!

Welcome to the World! This is my postcard for your ears. And I scribble scrawny letters, fettered, black, and too sincere. This is the year! These are my fears, that I keep deep, tucked inside me, Hiding, frightening, like wounds that light in spite of bulletproof lining. It's scrawled across the postage, down and out to the address. This is a message that has left us all with scars around our necks. Yeah, we built these ill-will buildings, they gave birth to scraped skies. It's not falling, but it's wounded – and it rips before our eyes. We gave consent to the descent of those who knew they could not fly, So they let their complex bodies fall from human progress on high. Collapse, connect to concrete on the streets we spit-cleaned shiny. This is the hate that pours, black and bold, from deep, deep inside me. It haunts us. Yes! We're born into the grime, Caked on our infant limbs, from the womb straight into crime. We cock our minds back and laugh before the black ideas blow. Where did we all come from, and where do we all go? These days, I awake, and I can feel it all around me That I'm lost, forever lost, and only gray skies have found me. The wind whistles it's tune: cold/metallic in my room. It sings of bleak moments that will pass away too soon, And flowers that don't bloom, oh! and lips that only kiss In lustful trysts. I miss that open-lipped, pulses-peaking bliss. My insides rage like hurricanes upon my battered earth And black nights of starless skies wrap around my untouched nerves. So my skin feels like sins with no mouth to forgive them. Woe, what have we done with this life that we've been given? Our lives are colored gray, yes, the skies are colored gray, By the nervous turbulence of a thousand wasted days. The world will keep turning, churning out this devastation That will wreck and ruin lives and keep us hiding from creation. The storm will keep raging, and the wind will still blow, oh! Where did we all come from and where do we all go?

There Is A Valley Oh! save me from the raging human machine! Save me from the gray concrete and steam! Save me from those burned and rotted fields, and take me far away to the land of wounds healed! For surely there is more out there for us than this sordid haze of consumption and waste. There is a place. There is a valley. There is a valley amongst the vast and endless sea of the American scenery that exists outside our consciousness. There is a valley, and although I've never been, I can taste it's freshly-made winds. I can hear it's moral din, making it's way from cleaned streets over to the filth and the grime that is me. There is a sickness. There is a sickness in our hearts, that grows with the unending vitality of a ravenous cancer. It consumes the soul! It swallows us whole! Down, down, down, until there is nothing of us left but fragile egos and frail selves. We destroy each other with insincere smiles, we attack with hateful handshakes – a catastrophe of conversation – a genial genocide. This is not the valley. We live in the city, where I watch my back at every corner. I sink my teeth at ever corner. And does anyone in the world realize how lonely we all are? Babygirl, don't listen to these two-cent sentiments – they drip like raindrops off my pale, chapped lips and establish absolutely no consequence. Just before our hips connect with bitter hostility and our limbs connect in raging revelry. We touch each other a lot, but absent is the passion, the screaming choir of our hearts, the teeming pallor of our skin, shining with the glow of feelings being fulfilled. There is a loneliness. There is a loneliness in the city. So we continue on, fucking and false loving in the dilapidated rhythm, like words written on a rickety table, trying to salvage the truth that we felt good about ourselves in our finite youth. I scribble, and the letters ripple through the rivers of my consciousness, but is it ever enough to overcome this loneliness that stalks us? We walk this long and listless road, colored gray by wasted days. We walk it alone in our search for the valley. We are side by side, but we are isolated, locking hands with phantom fantasies, devestated by the alchemy of cheap and petty thrills, and desires unfulfilled. It is a thin armor of self-esteem, but it shields us from our self-defeat – it shields us from each other. There is a darkness. There is a darkness. And so these are our lost American souls – we are the lonesome ghouls of the endless universe, trudging always with hunger across the endless earth, and we surrender substances, like it's the only cure. I am the cure! We are the cure! and I'd rather not litter this life, like a handful of bitter grime onto the slackened, slandered side of this dark, gray road. We trudge through the nervous, bleak, uncertain, but we shouldn't have to travel alone. One day, I want love to pour from my mouth like a torrential tide that wipes all our egos out. One day, I will speak, instead of being confined to blue and black ink. And I hope you speak, too – I hope it unites the whole hell-ridden lot of us! Because there is a sickness! and there is a loneliness! and there is a darkness!... But... There is a valley. There is a valley. Will we ever get there? And what, then? Oh, I'm afraid. I'm afraid we'll bring our ghoulish days and human plagues all the way to the heavenly gates. When we finally make it to other side – when we finally make it to those greener fields – when we finally make it to Heaven... I'm afraid... Oh, save us from our abandonded factories which manufacture grim disease. Save us from our smoke stacks which will turn the angels' wings black. Save the glory and the peace, and all the grass colored green. Don't let it all be lost to the raging human machine. One day, I'll find the valley. It's somewhere out there, hidden in the shadows of roads we don't know and the blackened souls we compose. It's somewhere here inside all of us, deeply buried beneath the hurt and maliciousness of our collectively lost innocence. Let's take a trip there – to the other side, where the grass is more green, more green! than those of our souls, which we attacked with lust and kerosene. Let's replace all of the question marks and armored hearts with the aching sting of need. I can't do this all by myself, and I'm tired of hiding behind curtly curated curtains of lusting limbs, and the thin, grim shroud of my spit-shined black clouds. Where is the answer? The cure for our cancer? I love you. And I love myself. That is all. There is a valley all swimming in light. There is a wonder and worry in life. There is a reason and there is a light. There is a valley all buried in light. There is a reason and beauty in life. There is a wonder and there is a light. The wind in the trees and the tumbling light. Whispering stars in the clouds tonight. -"Pretty Little Lightning Paw" by Thee Silver Mountain Reveries

Source: www.ohhla.com [Intro: Biggie] Uhh, check it out, uhh *singing* I steps in where the Mo's and the hoes at bay-bee! Fuck all that pretty shit Takin it back to the gutter for you motherfuckers Niggaz know the deal Niggaz know who the Don is Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant, the livest one Peep game, uhh, what, what [Verse One: Puff Daddy] Out of this world like Mars, when I spit these bars Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars (yeah) We built them radars to stay free from the cops Crucial choices to make, like A-C or the drop (laugh) Are we gonna stop? Shit man never my squad go broke Your squad arti-choke Watch your circle vanish like cigar smoke (blow out) Ain't no joke, when your ones don't show Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre (Uh-huh) Through hard work I earn the vault Promise God to never look back or I turn to salt (Yeah) Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings (C'mon) Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things (That's right) Can't relate to motherfuckers, who ain't go no cake (Eh-eh) When you all fucked up, and can't get no break (Uh-huh) When your fake ass friends, don't help you out when you need it Be on some real bullshit, politely tell you to beat it (Uh) Fuck that, get your own nigga, don't ask me for shit That's what I did, now they all askin for hits (Yeah) Nigga it's on for the simple fact I let it be known We still fly but seperately cause now I, charter my own (C'mon) Propellers, Goodfellas, leave all them playa haters jealous Billboard charts should tell us, they can't touch us Why niggaz bring the ruckus? Because release day is bigger than Mandela's, motherfuckers [Chorus] Just some ghetto boys Living in these ghetto streets -- these ghetto streets And everyday they gotta fight to stay alive It's just reality [Verse Two: Jay-Z] Yeah, ye-ye-yeah, check These here's the dog years and motherfuckers don't shed I try to bring you life but motherfuckers want dead So I travel with the barrel, with the chrome, with the lead Cause when it's on, then it's on, the shots flowin through your head I been rich I been poor I saved and blown bread Some say I been here before because of the way I zone Some said, Jigga zone is like the fallin of Rome Reoccuring, that he thinks like that cause he's observing (Uh) Won't be known until I'm gone and niggaz study my bones Mentally been many places, but I'm Brooklyn's own In the physical, onee seems, like a lost body In fact my thoughts don't differ much from that of God body But it's the odd shottie, that got cats, likening me to the mob John Gotti, rap dudes bitin me cause I got it locked like the late Bob Marley Pardon me y'all, the great Bob Marley Solemnly we mourn, all the rappers that's gone Niggaz that got killed in the field and all the babies born Know they ain't fully prepared for this New World Order So I keep it ghetto like sunflower seeds and quarter waters (Yee-uh) You walk em through it, you know, talk em through it Know these beads is more than music whenever I talk to it Destined for greatness and y'all knew this, when I doubled the pie Had a shorty and a girdle comin out of B-W-I (in school) I hated algebra but I loved to multiply And I told my nigga Big I'd be multi before I die It's gonna happen whether rappin or clappin have it your way Cause if that's my dough you're trappin, I'm clappin your way [Chorus] [Verse Three: Notorious B.I.G.] Damn it feel good to see people up on it (Uh) Flipped two keys in two weeks and didn't flaunt it (Uh-huh) My brain is haunted, with mean dreams GS's with BB's on it, supreme schemes, to get Richer than Richie, quickly, niggaz wanna hit me (Uh) If they get me, dress my body in linen by Armani, check it My lyrical carjack, make your brains splat High caliber gats is all I fuck with, now peep the rough shit in my circumfrence,(Uh) mad bitches, with mad lucci Bulletproof vestes under they coochie Spittin my uzi, don't lose me, my trigga niggaz represent Drivin dirty in J-30's gettin bent (Uh-huh) And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me While you still killin niggaz with punany, like heiny and Cyrus up in Cypress (Uh) fuck you raw you on the floor with the virus While I just, slang coke, (Uh) smoke pounds to choke (Uh-huh) Got lawyers watchin lawyers so I won't go broke, now check it Them country niggaz call me Frank White I'm squirtin off in my loft of course I know my shit's tight Sunrise open my eyes no surprise Got my shorty flyin in with keys taped to her thighs With all the utensils, who hang my china thing She half black half oriental (Uh) eighty-six she got me rental The situation ain't accidental.. What? From a, from a young G's perspective.. (repeat 2X) [Chorus] - 2X to fade

Babygirl! I'm back, like high-fives and knee-slaps. I speak to baller beats, it seems I don't know how to rap. But I still write the words, gold & pure, bold & black, And afterwards, we're relaxin', ashin' blunts from LoveSacks Or maybe blasting back the Kraken, spittin' fire like a dragon, Laughin', clappin' 'cross the city. It's a ship, and we're the captains. A sip for every year that I've been rappin': twenty-two shots. We smash hips, smack lips, back flips from rooftops! Turn on the city and pass me the keys! Oh baby, sweet dreams are made of these. Let's stay up all night in all of it's buzzing glory, Then wake up tomorrow with a thousand new stories. Good times, and red wine, my fire and fuel – What's say we go swimming in the neighbor's pool? I'm fighting for these memories, nail and tooth. You and me, babydoll, let's go dancin' on the roof. Clap your hands and dance, it's romance, pretty lady. If I'm dreamin', then I'm dyin', and the sunrise won't save me. I want to live – somebody wake me. Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby, oh baby. Here's to the memories we won't remember! Here's to the moments that will live forever! Let's go make some more great din, Then point to the moon at 4 A.M. Nights like this are never-ending, But all these drinks have left them blending. Let's laugh tomorrow, as we relive 'em And get lost in the lust of hedonism. How 'bout a drink, then kiss me dear! Oh, I know, it's amazing here! Orion wishes he could live like we are 'Cause our bodies are brighter than his burning stars. On the floor, we'll be sleeping, dreamin' 'bout wakin' up Reconvenin' in the PM, still trying to sober up. Now the smell of alcohol makes me gag, But Cheers! Cheers! I'll drink to that! Light me up, baby! Get me blazin'! Feed the glow from this dayragin'! Hello, night, and hello, elevation, And Goooood-byeeee moderation!

There's an aging in my insides, moving faster than I know. Time is ticking terribly, across the walls and window. It washes all around me, cold, torrential, and profound, Raining down upon the city of myself until I drown. Age will ruin my body, turning life and limb to whore. It will leave me cold and lost, but worst of all, will leave me bored. I don't want to lose that luster! Oh, the blush of brand new days! The precious glow of life that lights the hallways of this maze. A maze of memory and discovery – the labyrinth of our plans. But age will find us feeling through the dark with wrinkled hands. Can you see it? Can you smell it? I ask! Can you hear it? The endless stimulation of the endless new experience! It is the splendor of my spirit – what keeps my soul afloat. But these days, I am a little boy, lost amongst the ghosts. Oh, lost, forever lost! We are devoured by routine. It is the reason for our deaths. It is the reason we don't dream. Oh, how I want to fall in love and explore another's insides – To look with guiltless eyes, uncorrupted by a long life. I want to know and to be known. I want that endless hunger – To search the earth from end to end – explore unencumbered By the perversion of my conscience; the dulling down of rage; The disease of listlessness; the cold boredom of age. There are beauty in these breaths, yes, before and after innocence. There is beauty in the harmony, and also in the dissonance. From the womb to the gurney, yeah, this life's a raging journey To be attacked and to be savored with full ecstasy and fury. And we may scale the surly summit lest we're lost to mediocrity: The false profits of the “dream” that they sell without apology. Please don't let me grow old. Please don't let me get bored. Please don't let me lose it all that makes life such a reward. I want to run, I want to love, I want jump, and chase the dawn Before I'm lost, forever lost... And the luster has all gone.

These endless days are dark, and I cannot find my confidence. I cannot find redemption for my lost and sacred innocence. Today I am a day older, lusting after last night, And all the rosy-red pleasures that kept my aging eyes bright. I fight! And I struggle to stay humble and stay whole. I walk beneath the stars and I guard my weary soul. But I am slowly growing old, losing all to ticking time. Slowly turning to a ghost who is composed of subtle crime. And self-induced scars. I put my spirit up for sale. I'm not a martyr, I just bartered it for pleasures that grew stale. They pierce my hands like nails, which cannot write and will not hold The horde of bodies I pretend to think will keep me from the cold. I watch the world spin from sheets that suffocate me gravely. Where is the black hair and bright eyes that could save me From the savage winds that ravage and the hard truths and the harshest Black days and black nights? Who will save me from the darkness? I can't go home anymore. Oh, I just can't stand the sight Of all the ghosts like me who release their finite life To the jaws of ruthless clocks, which consume without apology The luster of our limbs. Routine devours all of me. Where is our salvation from the let-down of sub-quality Mediocrity? Maybe it's found in the giddy blush Of love and laughing mouths, but I'm afraid that this city's just Citizens of Sisyphuses lifting limping wrists And angry fists up to the emptiness of stones that don't roll, And love that doesn't grow from misfit kisses / flaming edifices. Blisses keep the veil down, keep us stranded to the ground. I want to find the great escape for the people of my town, But I fear that they will surely drown in the bitter day-to-day, And all our eyes, like the skies, will surely turn to gray. In this fucking desert, we'll be buried beneath a grassless grave. But you, my yellow bird, are the one that I would save. Oh, it's so hard for me to like myself, and maybe it's unfair For me to put it all atop the shoulders meant for shampooed hair. But babygirl, I'm scared. Could I just get your hand in mine Then you and I could brave the harshest truth: the onslaught of time. We will not live forever, but we could stand the storm together, Backs against the blaze and the destruction of the weather. Just stay with me a while, and we will smile with graying eyes Atop collapsing grandeur and your reckless paradise That we built to spill with listlessness. Drugs and drinks and kisses, it's Just that I'd gladly ruin, with slow and steady viciousness, My life with you. Subdue the hues of dark and dreary daylight Living only by the night. Come drown with me in the divide. I want to save you from that town! My dusty former home. It will drown you down regardless. It will haunt your gorgeous bones. The dirt will take hold – it will live within your skin! Just come away with me and we'll escape our former sins. Shed our skin and glow anew amidst the scary air we breathe. I want to inhale your goodness, and love you so terribly. And I need to be saved, too! I'm a phantom, I'm a shell – And everyday I awake to drag my mind again through hell! I want to dance in dried pools, I want to hear you read me poetry. Relive all the gorgeous moments that will not let go of me. Fistfuls of ecstasy. Low-grade smoke and pills. You in your black dress. Oh! I want your petty thrills. I want limbs intertwined while time passes outside windows. We'll be safe from the world of the little screams and thin ghosts. Please find me here in Hell amidst my vast and wasted health. Please find me, please rescue me from myself! And this sordid country will not take you from me, girl, I'll find some ways. I will keep writing till you're inside of these dark and endless days. You will not drown in the dust and the lust of stars above. I'll find you, I'll rescue you from the light my love.

And everything I do recorded by myself, 'cause if you couldn't tell from listening, I'm broke as hell. But I won't stop, can't stop these dope hooks, mad props, Tracking everything from my notebook laptop. Smokin' bowls in my kitchen, spittin' at some dirty dishes, That's my equivalent of studios, blunts, and bitches. I suppose it's a matter of degree, but with me, I bring 212 of 'em, like Azealia B. F, not C. I'm not a nazi, but watch me, I'm inside the genocide of club rap with no autopsy- Turvy, no attorneys, when you're worried, shine your clouds. My assonance is in your mouth. Go ahead, spit it out. I don't know how to flow, but I don't really give a damn, 'Cause it's just me and my produces, and by that I mean my webcam. Words are strong enough to make you swivel and swoon, Just croonin' from my living room these beautiful tunes. It's rhythm & blues, the way that white boys do, So we could doo-wop / awkward two-steps in our blue, suede shoes. They say I'm too articulate to truly spit and blast some hits, But I will craft with confidence these consonants to kill your shit. Maybe mumble memories, manipulate my memoirs. Hear "Ha ha, hallelujah" when I win whimsical wit wars. My metaphors are whores, of course. They'll fuck you, leave you wanting more, But similes are more like me: as friendly as a door-to-door Salesman selling services you cannot live without. Bottom line, it's lucid language straight exploding from my mouth. Painless anguish from my languid lips, oh, how I greatly wish That I could talk like this when I am speaking with my hips, But I don't really give a shit about eager appendages. Just wanna roll it, light it, smoke it, get as high as Venus is. Hear the pop and hisses of the needle when I set it free. 33, babygirl. Let's spin this.