Motherfuckin money on my mind, 
every day that I awaken it's the same damn line. 
Stutter, muckin sunny days, isn't it divine? 
High like a Jamaican all of the time.
And I'm frustrated, it isn't benign. 
Shit's hit the fan since the first day I turned nine. 
Little white boy sans a dollar to survive, 
only family is mannequins with drugs they come alive. 
Listen, everybody tripping like they shoes was laced with-
spice, some k-2 rip em out the fuckin matrix. 
Dangerous to go alone, here's some gum Homie take this. 
Blowing bubbles in the puff screen, taking the piss.
I'm kidding I don't own one, mulah I ain't got none. 
Melanocarcinoma breeds from heating underneath the sun.
Writing on the walls saying RedRum, better run. 
Someone's playing music down the hall, let us have some fun.

Your rewards system's out of wack.
Better get to jumpin Jack.
Bumpin to the syndrome recording inside your skull cap.
Would you like to take a hit?
But dude, who should deliver it?
Usual cavorting afterwards so what's the difference? 
Hit me life. 

Motherfuckin love inside my dome.
Every life started is another broken home.
I seeped my marrow dry and tried to hollow out my bones,
tomorrow leap from the steeple and fly to other unknowns.
They used to call me Eagle before I was jonesing to flee.
Bemoaned dissatisfaction at the years he forsees,
so like a sinister snake, I slithered up to the trees,
imagine reaching for the grapevine and instead its'a me. 
I'm trying not to harbor grudges or mainline a disease, 
my psyche hardly budges until it's being besieged. 
And TBH, that's pretty often it's so awful I know. 
But the walls had made a coffin, Gorbachev had to go. 
I found a way around the maze, Buzz Aldrin would know. 
But now I'm playing hot potato with my heart on the stove. 

I'm with the boogie woogie babes and we're here to misbehave, shave the last decade as a retrograde Savior. 
Rookies playing hookie snag lines til slaves,
pulled against the current in an aberrant nature. 
We are now seeing tracers, trailing off on the paper.
Blazing praises to the grace of breathing deep as a crater.
Would be cushy if this kush he faced wasn't big as a freighter. And dig it, there's no higher grade bruh.
Hit me life.

Horizons on my motherfucking mind. 
By nature I'm a lion, tuned raccoon by design. 
Defined treasure as trash, and trash as both combined. 
Plus I keep a mad stash of garbarge raps I can rhyme. 
If those bars sound stolen, they were only inspired, 
by an idol, knows no rivals, probably wouldn't give me the time. And that's fine. 
Mine's borrowed anyways, I'd hate to steal more.
As the throttle relays, steel yourself for the storm.
About twenty-thousand days lives an average man, 
and how much time did I waste? And what the fuck was it for?
I got a problem not resolving, rather settle the score. 
But my head keeps on revolving round these dreadful closing doors. 
Now it's spread to involving all of what I love and adore. 
I'm unsure, responding to the thread but the process is sore.

Check. This. Cool and aesthetic.
Heck. This. Schooled and prophetic.
Oh. Shit. Fooled them phonetics. 
Alpha-beta pool alphabetically met with-
diction. To rare to look up.
Mission. Ensnare the crook, sup?
Listen, this is the hook, huh?
Say it again, just one moment

Check. This. Cool and aesthetic.
Heck. This. Schooled and prophetic.
Oh. Shit. Fooled them phonetics. 
Alpha-beta pool alphabetically met with-
lyrics. Too deep to see through. 
Mystics. Reap who misconstrue.
Business. Keep feelings subdued.
Like Cygnus I swan dived and to the stars I conclude.

Penny for Your Thoughts

Shouldn't have fucked round n found out with the medical.
Clinical downers laugh drowsy, bouncing with the chemicals. 
Cynical, the pinnacle of powers that be. Remain mystical,
seeming but physical bounty amount to atypical. 
Underground a silhouette in elliptical posters,
give cassettes the runaround as a whimsical joker.
Smoking fiscally the green, paramount to the ogre.
Cinders n smolder, ping a greyhound from the vultures, 
hold your breaths as we digest incoming outbound culture.
Stay still like a sculpture, there's a sound getting closer. 
Sweating, bet he let a yelp, but it's Scully and Mulder.
Said we reeking of sulfur, that's a tee to a golfer
 'xcept we're three little gophers, riding bears on their shoulders. 
And we're running from boulders, out the way these lawn mowers. 
Claws, cause, teeth, sweet, sour, atrocious. 
Paws, gauze, meat, neat, power-hour psychosis,
bitch.

( I twist tales like King of the Rodents )

Everything I say is a hundred percent true. (2x)
She don't want rubber when we're bouncing the igloo.
Things get godly, oddly handsy like we fuckin with Vishnu.

We peck beaks like Darwin was watching, swoop deep scoop cheap jewelry and watches. 
Only top-notch living for the finest pigeons, but some kids on the block rocking sling shots in boxes.
So take a swing where you dare, knick me and I ain't care. 
I'm a hundred stories high, lair's theme is no stairs.
Quit gazing, lights in the basement. Out. Flicker on and off
in amazement. 
Will you now cooperate or moderate yourself? 
Payday is a month away, your money on a shelf. 
The circuits made are perforated tearing at the seam.
Urgent we must operate, this is not a dream. 
Walls are breathing, white noise speaking, 
did this just start or are we peaking? 
Calmly reconsider our delivery to you.
Embalm the highest bidder after bitters, gin, and juice.
Then immure them in a statue, palms silver-critter infused.
Only for the serious, inquiries are excused.
Shouldn't have fucked around n found out with the musical. 
More addicted than when I was drinking down the cubicle.
Mitochondria make this mighty mouse a powerhouse, 
blowing down the trap doors, letting all the vermin out. 
Like Merlin he cock a warlocks porkchops, and with a magical lob enchant the crops n bean stalks.
For the Jack of all trades, son of John of thespades, 
turn a gamble with the bramble to a way out the maze. 
The rat race, the fast paced, the last place you'd want to hunt.
Twelve hours of turning wheels means rotating a blunt. 
Every days raises another dangerous stunt, this month it's raining razors and your phaser's set to stun.

Everything I say is a hundred percent right. (2x)
I don't start shit but im'a finish a fight. 
Hog-tied, blind sided, scared for my life.
I sprout a seed in my soul in the roots I survive. 

Everything I say is a hundred percent true. (2x)
My dermis made if rubber, white matter made of glue.
Every diss y'all hiss at night, lightens back to you. 


RatKing

Water. Glass. Silver. Gold.
Martyrs. Grass. Killers. Scrolls.
Charters. Maps. Pillage. Skulls.
Harder. Splats. Mirrors. Goals.

Souls in bags at a particular crossroads,
perpendicular to Styx, Job raggled and frost toed.
Provocateur sink a lure, tacklebox full of lost hope.
Jump ropes over coals with two stumps for embossed Gold.
Hawk mode, talent in the talons of chalk folk-
gallons of liquor later labor rock ya like Stockholm.
Syndrome is the system shock its ticker painted his heart baroque. 
Smudge the car using pot smoke. 
Budget bars like the line rogue.
Invoke a stroking six cylinder, pills in her wine and dinner,
finna find a few enigmas entertwined with fine dined blokes. Delicious.
Easy pickings makes for a nutritious, 
vicous business venture, no I won't become capricious. 
Rapacious tho, it's capital, it's the green that gets the green. 
The christmas tree cheddar bonus, never better I've received. 
Mesh with the edge of your seat, test of flames your receipt, incredible or regrettable yet remains to be seen. 
Exchange the flesh of the Queen, for a tribunal of peace.
The planes on which we operate demand communal appeasement, deity or a daemon, examine waves going gamma.
The approval rate expanding into an infinite Savannah.
And the saturation content retaining intricate propaganda.
Still not a drop of salvation for the hoi polloi in pajamas.

Water. Glass. Silver. Gold.
Martyrs. Grass. Killers. Scrolls.
Charters. Maps. Pillage. Skulls.
Harder. Splats. Mirrors. Goals.

Water. Fire. Dirt. Plasma.
Respiring, birth winds free ride on the magma, convection shifting molten Mother Earth, easy with the syntax sticky pictures do not show your worth.
Heebie jeebie jitters from molecules the climax procured.
From the scorch ensuing soot, defining features obscured.
Rest assured, my little spider, you exist with all eyes,
affixed to the glowing spire.
The home of a roving tiger,
the drone of a rolling Striker,
the moan inside her saliva, 
atone for the bit papaya, 
the knowledge of all roots,
homage to wisdom in the fruits,
the rise, collapse of Carthage turn to men in black suits.
Flash a badge or they might shoot.
And just like a cartoon, end it back at square one,
adjust in your costumes, life isn't fair son.
The avatars we play display arrays of strange behaviors, 
but to break the game and walk away is to ostracize thine neighbors. 
And what's mine is yours is yours is mine man only if you take it.
Organize your mind through rhymes and find an unplanned chamber, or vacation. 
Only quake if out of haven, heaven lost a leash on demons, 
scripture claimed that man is free to damn his soul eternal eons.
But here's the reason for me,
unique blend seasoning, 
the recipe for measuring allegiance to freak friends.
Life happened on the weekends, my vessel grew exhausted. 
The boy I knew, a man unglued couldn't wrestle what the cost is. 
Egodisolute for sure but thoughts stay egodistonic,
constantly at war for more than what's seen by an audience. 
I'm guessing you'll relate. 

Water. Glass. Silver. Gold.
Martyrs. Grass. Killers. Scrolls.
Charters. Maps. Pillage. Skulls.
Harder. Splats. Mirrors. Goals.

Mirror

Summer’s Ending Prod. By Eerie Visions

Ooh
ooh
Oh.
Oh.

She says "Love me.."
"When you're lowly."
"Would you hold me?"

Want me..
Though we're slowly, 
losing only, what was never guaranteed.

Need me..
Please don't leave me,
these things aren't choices it would seem. 

"Lovely,
don't you love me?"
Then why is there ice in the words you scream? 

She says, "Love me.."
"When you're lonely."
When you haven't roads for your soul to speak.

You could want me. 
Though we're slowly, 
losing only, what was never guaranteed. 


Once I was the one who loved to love until it was-
unanswerable complications, a power dynamic buzzed.
Immediate recalculation of load on top of the truss,
trust stress tested where the foundation rust.

Busted head's best method of undoing til dust,
push and pulling, incongruous with the coolness discussed. 
I must've shushed all those voices because there just isn't much of a disturbance, bigger person, 
if I could I'd be clutch.

Shit if I could, I would bruh.
I'd put an end to this rut.
I'd choose to love you, not just love you give you blood and my guts.
I'd give the breath from my lungs to hear you saying 
"What's up?"
I'd split from the tip of the tongue to keep it from leaving a cut.

But...
and I know because there's always a but.
There's always another hallway that I'm trying to run. 
Like the sky had started falling; all done for what's none. 
Or a suspicion we submit to bawling, calling it fun. 

Baby, I don't, want to,
cry, you, want to, die,
you, want us, lovely.
Baby, I don't, want to,
die, be, by your side,
be, all your lovely. 
Baby, I don't, want to,
cry, you, love me, why?
You, want us? Crazy.
Baby, you don't, want to, 
die, I, do inside, like,
(you inside) when, we're not lovely.

Mint IceScream [Prod middingbeats37]

Under moonlight I am hollowed, followed self annihilation. 
Swallowed gin til half the bottle wobble, throttle in escape plan. 
I'm amazed at who might wonder where the shudder and the shake stand-
sleeping in the osseous, deep nerve innervations.

Nervous is an obvious, but weren't I in the basement? 
Observedly concocting vials of acid and reagents?
Check it I'm a mess when dripping strips on this here pavement-
but the road on which I'm coming down keeps splitting up the anguish. 

And you could say it ain't shit.
But real quick.
Listen and envision til this de-encryption clicks, kid.
Like kickin' it, no supervision, shiftin' hidden porno flicks, sick!
Mystifying, mind-defining, pushed into a pin-prick.

All inquiries of death defying odds and their statistics.
D.M.N. been brick n' mortared, surely built into your limericks-
it's hinting- 
at something more in store to see than that which we're permitted. 
But believe that your relief is tied to lines we steady twisting. 

What do I believe in?
Broken, swimming pieces.
Frozen, intravenous. 
Slimming hope of meeting Jesus.
Where do I recede in?
Alone, toyed by my demons. 
Unspoken, motionless in Vanta Black devoid of features. 

Reve- -venant.
Reve- -venant.

Under twilight, with no eyesight, inside finite simulation. 
Rudder sputtered, uttered petabytes in dilated duration. 
Specious present, drunkard seconds brew the fugue into sedation.
Tried and true, a crescent moon, pull too the tides of my creation. 
High like noon, I am exhumed. From up above, my desecration. 
Eyes maroon, an icy doom, I do not groom nigh hesitation.
Like a plume of shiny psyche rising lightly through the pavement-
where the mind hides from the floppy drive in bodiless displacement. 

Oooh, welcome to my-
(Wonderland)
Oooh, now what am I?
(Revenant)

What do I believe in?
Broken, swimming pieces.
Frozen, intravenous-
slimming hope of meeting Jesus.
Where do I recede in?
Alone, toyed by my demons. 
Unspoken, motionless in Vanta Black devoid of features. (x2)

Under sunlit streets stuck on repeat, discretely how the flesh will move.
Undetected are the wounds, hit deep, projected from  a freshest womb.
The tempest coos. News to you that death is not a petting zoo.
Life is not a ratio of one to one reblending hues, it's more a door before the Lord and God is just our chemicals. 
Reward intrinsically or simply spit amidst the centrifuge. 
What's wrong with you?
Dude I think I peeped a thing that men were never meant to view.
Ooh, I feel my body cling to singing strings in dreams I queue.
Reverberate infinitely inside this sea of deja vu.
It seems to you, that me? Well you see I ain't no miracle. 
I'm fearful of the void because I've seen it means our tears removed. 
Mine thoughts, my eyes, my lies, my clearest proof.

R.evenant

Life is a funny motherfucker. Funny when it's sunny
but the lovey-dovey umbra, hungry like on gummies,
mummifying what was once a, beautiful occasion, awakened to rain and thunder. 
Why, I'm a funny motherfucker. Funny when I'm running from the mud and blood and Yucca. Cunning in the Nothing, drunk and driving is a nuh-uh. Musical palpation, a Paleolithic drummer,
justi-
-fying why the frying pan inside us cite a sliding dance, kindly organize thy plants and plan to fight a hiding chance. 
Styx and boats may float my soul but curses work a guiding lance.
Like Churches burning brightly I'm inviting thee to suffer.
Son of a bitch.
I must've come from betwixt,
the mobilizing enzymatic, erratic, aligning myths.
Opal's eyes on the horizon, Orion just as transfixed. 
Sixth sense of a lion, his ions a puffer fish.
Make a wish amidst the sirens that you didn't exist.
Under eyelids, still it is my vision isn't convinced. 
My mission statement to engage with he who doesn't resist-
inquisitive machinations on arrangement of bricks.
Coalition of reticulum. Between the interstitium. 
Nervous system in conniption, kick you in the ischium.
Tsk tsk. Circuits Red Alerted at a minimum.
For what purpose do we serve if death refresh curriculum?
For which point are we anointed, lest there really isn't one?
Two adjoining disappointments nestled in the pendulum. Distorted, swinging back and forth, through embezzled continuum. 
Magic patchwork resemble human, queued from oblivion. 
Everything is arbitrary, including how you speak.
Or what you dream, and way you think, the commentary, slash, critique. 
The voluntary, hash-tag, Freak.
Your "Presque vu's" and "Deja who's" a splash of CPU  RAM speed.

Damn, that ain't quite the truth.
Enlighten you like lightning do.
I strike a mic all while inquiring, where the seed unwind its roots?
I like to use my magnifying glass, alas it don't intrude.
Deeper than the skin or past the plastic that we're turning to.
Murder, murder, Red & Blue.
Hurt a herder, should he move.
Cull the flock with sermons, turn you nervous like a hoodie crew.
Gospel got a purpose and it sure as shit ain't serving you. Preserving you, concerning you, commercialized and hitherto our service is a surface level purchase versus current clues:
"Boy, you better check the News"
"Dude, you best respect my views"
Rude to coalesce when one's suppression brings a neck to noose.
You better start defecting from the powers we produced, who like children once neglected, reflected showered abuse. 
Within a trickle down, affection effected the screws loose.
From the teacher discontented, vetted stickler for rules, to the preacher unconnected with dissimilar views.
Or the reach into your head with corpo marketing cues.
If a child ever plateau at a school or in pews, you revile their naughty noggins where the tissue don't bruise.
Use a smile on the podium, a phony one too.
Inducing pandemonium to mostly budget a few.
Won't throw a stone at petroleum, dial mile wide plumes, favor vaporization to bust community feuds.
Trust the realization make disillusioning youths.

Life is a funny motherfucker. Funny cause it's sunny but you're roughly just a number. Fuzzy where the money summon blood in a penumbra. Either nutty, or a junkie, or a bunkie, or a sucker. 
Ha.
Life is a funny motherfucker. Fucky when it's ugly under cover of the summer. Touchy puts it bluntly, must be all that we can muster. Neither lovely, or trusty, or something bubbly to utter.
Ha ha.
Life is a funny motherfucker. Funny when it's dying to deprive you of ya color. Try again to quantify the hive who has it tougher. Breathe a sigh of relief as the dumpster fire pucker.
Ah ha, ha.
Life is a funny motherfucker. Motherfucking funny when we're running for the bunkers. Other than unlucky ones like chuckling spelunkers, all our companies suddenly lack a fucking hungry customer.

Corporate Punishment [Prod Cat Beats]

"He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him."  (John 3:36)

Two O'clock creeping, he sneaking into the A.M.
Who do knock? Reaper: a creature ensuing mayhem. 
Voodoo doll locked in the jaw of a senior caiman. 
Can't communicate to y'all, asleep in a dream with Dagon.
Daemon. Ravens. Cravings. Crows.
Heathens to the beacon, awaken the frontal lobe.
Sensational allegiance, malfeasance doth grip the globe.
Catacomb legion of cretins under control. 

Comatose season, agreeance to postpone:
those who obviate a lesion deep to parietal bones.
Though you deviate from Eden, eat the apple alone, 
in the Tower of Babel, scaffolds rattle, down to the dome.
A devouring rabble rouser houses cowards in flowers and douse a mountaintop chapel with sounds of hounds to encounter, around a bountiful power allowing clouds to come out of the mouth of doubters who vouched for those who soley wouldn't atone. 
Oh.

"And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched-"                                                        (Mark 9:43)

Cue the shock collar, and holler into the playpen.
Grew a shot caller who foster the newest made men.
Soon to mock Father, "Forgive me for I have ate sin."
Shaken still, the toddler once slaughtered amidst the preying.
Break him. Raise him. Cave in. Skulls.
Hateful appropriation of a praise that shift the pulse.
Insatiable degradation pertaining to molded soul.
Hole a vacant administration for the lowest of lows.

Closing gates on dire straights, while fire rises, slowly grows.
Thrown away once led astray, no crying eyes,
remotely shown.
No Holy Ghosts or golden roads, divine decay and throaty foam,
mostly realigned by what mankind defined in dopey smoke.
Superstitous primates lead blindly through moving pictures, inner visions be blithely decided as true to consider, since sinners seem synchronized with a mischievous, crude fixture of what life as civilized implies for the rulers with scripture.

"But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death"  (Rev. 21:8)

Epistemological WarShip [Prod Eerie Vision]

Bean stalk, fallin freer, meet me in the meat shop.
Giants talk shit, build a bridge n get your team caught.
He's not, righteous there's no piety: konnichiwa.
Eyeing up a goner like God gonna get you meanies all-
Ring pops. Candy island fantasy. Please stop.
Shanty town benzodiazepine and a clean cot.
Dirty cop, murdering the peace.
Murder Kings.
Ha.
Martin Luther shooter commercializing a dream.
Nah.
Pardon the Bourgeoisie, they make a plea with the green-top.
Fuck your envisioned divinity, see the beat drop.

Trees burn, and breathe not.
Under siege, Feliz Nav-
idad, it's just a part of the system to keep the keys locked.
Each block, separate community where the fleas gawk.
Police dog, check your immunity. 
Who your Liege, dawg?
Sniffin ingenuity, chewin off your own leash, dawg.
Freedom an illusion when movements be quarantined. Draw-
straws, because the Gulag is choosing who to release. Ah!
Gotcha! Is it proper to arbitrate who can sneeze? Bruh.
Who to let off with a warning, or swarm in a gory spree?
What's a torture that's humane?
Is it caged in solitary? 
Is it heinous to let rapists and racists to do their thing? 
When one mistake can place a face in the same penitentiary?
A nonviolent drug offender, fenced inside the misery 
and made to quietly assemble products for their pinched pennies.
Slippery compliance, aligned in a mighty synergy,
since it seems that these lions been fighting their Pride since infancy. 

Bean stalk, climb it higher, hide amidst the cream crop.
Giants not shit when the mission is get the Queen chopped.
King swap. True to fruition, prison regime hot.
Listen to the Powers that Be before your routine clocked.

Climb now little lions, you're likely to find a slingshot.
Criminal alliance applied to the unsigned inkblot. 
Simple: if defiant in eyes of what we do deem wrong-
punish provocateurs with assurance they are evil.

Bean stalk, taller they are - harder the machine knock.
Part of squeaky clean is keeping thinkers off the screen shot.
Lean knot, swinging Epstein, heebie jeebies, he bought-
how many frenemies yet the leverage was a weak spot.

I bet you're asking what I mean,
dotting lines and crossing T's.
Plotted rhymes are to realize that we are not commodities.
Though hearts commodified indeed.
What qualifies as the elite?
If you need to be vaporized, you will ride with authorities. 
I mean:
What I got in common with gangsters from streets in Compton, is knowledge of who responsible for creation of watchmen. 
And watch as they calmly caution, of "others" who don't belong in, the very environment affiliated with auctions.
Of human beings out the coffins.
Of Antebellum concoctions. 
You and me downing toxins and bounding we to the bottom. 
See, part of the fucking problem is obviously the stardom, and Stars that start getting darkened by marginalizing profits. 
Get promised deposit boxes if partnered with the colossus, turn your back on your conscience and climb the bean stalk the farthest. And sow your kin to the harvest.

Snippet - Ouija

Eerie Visions

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