Produced by Machinedrum ("Now U Know tha Deal 4 Real)

Mrs. Progressive
----
VERSE 1
Repetition of issues is not gon' break through this.
The struggle, too many strains on my oesophagus.
Such vocal volume assumes they have significance.
I pop one over the top of this to no witnesses.
It's hard to claim of a stance when you've no substitutions.
It doesn't help when the focus is on pure execution.
A backward thinker will top you if they've got vocal cords.
It's hard to fight for yourself when haters come in hordes.

CHROUS 1
Where. Are. You. Mrs. Progressive?
For real. For real.
Where. Are. You. Mrs. Progressive?
For real. For real.

VERSE 2
It's hard to put all your trust in those who want to give.
It's hard to spread out your wings where hatred's where you live.
You want to skip to the time where things are what you choose.
Excluding all of the cynicism and dated views.
In an ideal world- wait, now I'm talking future-tense?
There I go again, giving prominence to
Hypothetical situations that I can easily counter.
And so can you, we can all, but first your, home & number?

CHROUS 2
Where. Are. You. Mrs. Progressive?
For real. For real.
Where. Are. You. Mrs. Progressive?
For real. For real.

VERSE 3
Here I come, with my gloves off.
You're telling me my friends cannot marry because they make cough.
Choke, wheeze, bitch please, you're an insult.
I'm gonna have to open a wound and then apply salt
"It's cos' God said." "It's cos' my Dad said"
"Everybody run to my shelter because a gay wed!"
It's best you cynics gather in a cage.
Ten years time your whole cult will die of dark age.
I'm not surprised that you have an issue with race
Targets for your fire cos' they're taking your space.
Was it yours in the first place? Call your hate off
As long as their not causing a war, let them build a mosque.
Negativity; let's put it to bed.
As a stance, I refuse to wed.
Stop using the word "our" as if you own thee.
Stop using the word "our" as if you speak for me.

VERSE 4
This entitlement to land and love confuses me.
Such attraction to negativity.
Based on, the rude idea of a culture that's soaked in only white.
If you are gay or of colour, you're stripped of every right.
It's just a concept that still lingers and it's such a shame.
Won't last forever, we will win, but still until that day....
I'm searching, oh how I'm searching for that a mind of mine.
Oh why oh, Mrs. Progressive, why do you take your time.
[x2]

Mrs. Progressive (prod by. Machinedrum)

Produced by Eprom (Beast of Babylon)
Written & Performed by Blake Stringer

LYRICS
----
20 years young….

I’m mixing with the best, cos' I put myself through tests, that’s how I’ve come to Fed-express how I’m feeling.
It don’t come without a cost, I decide to rip you off, I proclaim to be the boss of concealing.

I’m not a fake, no I don’t settle for less. I’m just a twenty-something tragic with a quest for intellect.
I can harm and yes I’ve done it before. So don’t you dare get in my way when I am starting to score and...

Get down with the flow
Down, down with the flow.
Down with the flow
Get down with the flow.
Go with the flow,
Go, go with the flow
I’m just a twenty-something tragic with a dream and a paper bag.
I’m a little bit edgy now. Not ready to go to bed. 
I think I need new pills. Need a new refill, need a brand new thrill, need new frills.

Come into my dome, this is now what I call home before it changes by end of week.
You’re bound to watch me fall, as I scale up these walls and I decide to give it all like a Wikileak.
I’m not a fake, no I don’t settle for less. I’m just a twenty-something tragic with a quest for intellect.
I’m distant. I’m crazy. Don’t you dare mess with me baby. Can’t faze me or detain me, you can try but you won’t fucking change me.

Crunch, crunch. Biting critics, you’re my appetizers and lunch.
Chew, bite. Eating critics up by candlelight, now that’s my setting, baby.
I’m no faker, I don’t settle for less. I’m just a twenty-something tragic with a quest for intellect.
I’m searching, I’m a creature, with distinctive features. If I could, I would try to teach ya, but I’m not really into that preaching shit.

And yeah I’ve got a lot to learn, so much youth for me to burn, gathered ashes in an urn.
Reflective. I wanna make sure I don’t forget this. Accept this. 
And make sure I express my feelings.

I’m a youth from the clouds. 
When I go in, I top things, I just win.

20Something (prod by. Eprom)

Orrery

Pentakis Dodecahedron

Produced by Machinedrum ("No Respect")
Written & Performed by Blake Stringer

----

LYRICS
Ain't nobody respects ya' (repeat)

Uptown bound baby this is your chance.
You've gotta knuckle down baby give them all that you can.
If you let yourself slip, you will always look back.
So remember to be happy as you lunge for the attack.

You're gonna win (repeat)

Get it little baby, you be looking for the bread.
Set your goal little higher, you be looking for the french stuff.
French lunch. French crust. Baby want the french lust.
Finding all your lovin' on the streets of Paris.
I had a dream, where I called you from miles away
I'm like "why you never callin' me back. Have you forgot me?"
You're like "this is what you wanted, I'm busy"
I hung up the phone and smiled. I was happy.

I was happy that you found your way.
You found the strength to pack up your bags and go and get some.
That "some" was your dreams on a plate.
It was your dreams in a cake. It was the dreams that you ate.
I'm like, what an underdog. How did you do this?
What a comeback from the brink just to own this.
Even though I gave you support from the base.
You could still see the amazement and shock on my face.

That's when I awoke
You're not on my TV screens, you're not promoting Coke.
I called up saying "go out and win for me"
You said you would "think about it". They were busy.
That made me shout.
You know you're putting everybody ahead because of self-doubt.
C'mon, I mean, you've got the gift.
Stop giving everybody their un-deserved lift.

Young killer is developing a taste for the big league.
Don't salivate all your juices before you hit your peak.
That's the path where inhibition is put on a roast
Closest shot of France will be french toast.
Eaten in your home all alone by your pussy cat.
Scared to believe in yourself because you're pussy.
Get up and earn
Nobody likes a charity case, get up and burn.


Shot, bubble pop. No easy pathway to the top.
Once you stop, you will drop so hard. Body flop.
Chop chop, prop barrage you will cop. 
Body lop. Blood clot. Clean the mess with proverbial mop-
Down baby, you looking like a mess.
Your salivating ways has ruined your dress.
Get undressed, all the rest, put a new suit on.
You're going out baby, you getting what you want.


Idealistically, this is the dream.
"It's harder than it looks, Blake. You're not on TV screens"
No...but I'm having a blast.
I'm active in my passion; you're out on your arse.
And don't give me that talk back. It's not about fame.
It's about being proud of yourself with no shame.
The "city lights" analogy is just to get you going.
You don't have to make it big to show that you're owning.

Homing in.
This is what you gotta do if you're to win.
It's not about driving a Hurst in the legendary lane
Coping flak from haters, due to flame.
And that's it, see, you're not gonna win all the praise.
Stop thinking the outer, think inner-blaze.
Get the fire inside and gather in a ball.
Aim your palms at the stars and knock down that wall.

Blake Stringer

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