BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Blow the dust off the groove, let the crackle resume,
look again back and forth at the walls in the room,
dreams rise to the surface like roses in bloom,
where I'm breaking the silence that made the cocoon,
forming the loom that instills the connection, 
increasing in worth like the rarest collections,
ideas are the seeds in a grave of perception,
and actions a rainfall that starts resurrection,
the secret retention now bathing in sunbeams,
raising the sails on the high tide of life's scheme, 
citing the reference, fleshing out context,
I turn up the heat for defrosting the prospects,
immoveable objects, unstoppable forces,
steel toe caps through the nest of the hornets,
swarming the cortex  trapped in the nexus,
I bang on a beat like an ape's solar plexus,

Hook:
From the pen to the page to the words on the stage,
all a way to escape from a world never changed,
extracting the banes like a weed overgrown, 
splitting hairs with the stare of the gaping unknown x2

Adapting the textures while making the next tune,
come to a point like the scepter of Neptune,
making my debut on the fields of Elysium,
I cause a reaction like water and cesium,
severing the tedium to find equilibrium,
devicing a medium inside the delirium,
rattling the cage of the Kentish meridian, 
love going cold like the blood of amphibians,
oblivion's civilian parading the wasteland,
meanings diffused like the gas in a spray can,
 safe hands grappling the heel of Achilles,
 out on a limb for attaining a free lease,
teasing the penny drop the future's retaining,
 an ace up  a sleeve that is somewhat remaining,
tailing the convoy of ways that I shoulda kept,
aiming to fly far away from the cuckoo's nest...

Hook:
From the pen to the page to the words on the stage,
all a way to escape from a world never changed,
extracting the banes like a weed overgrown, 
splitting hairs with the stare of the gaping unknown x2

Begin

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

The cosmos alligns to define my resurgence,
compass is set to the northstar emerging,
commencing rebirth biting tails off the serpents,
the lust for discovery's like aphrodite flirting,
open the curtain as worlds are inverting,
reverting rotations enforcing returnings,
asserting the blueprint, decipher the looming curse,
souls in expansion like depths of the universe,
truth immersed further than the sword of excalibur,
register the picture like clicks of a camera,
fine tuning calibre, a former self's coroner,
the story of andromeda entranced by a commoner,
coursing the promenade laid by the galaxy,
sitting in the carriage of the interstellar cavalry,
passing through wormholes in asteroid cavities,
rummaging the nothingess for dark matter's clarity,
I cluster sporadically in blue harvest daydreams,
brainwaves lathered like a bowl full of shave cream, 
pasting the images to form recollection,
I'm changing the tide like a soviet defection,

Hook:
Blueprint of thought, forming the course,
cause and effect in a showdown of force,
spores  of reflection infesting the airways,
making a step on the infinite stairway x2

Divine intervention awaits at the crash course,
eyes open up like the skies after downpours,
bringing an end to the days of the groundhog,
ignite the burner for a monotone backlog,
back and forth hacksaw motions in action,
ice rink's thinning as I'm searching for traction,
tasting a fraction of Ying and Yang's pie chart,
old habits die hard forming a fine art,
blind darts fired at the bullseye  of self doubt,
cast iron silence, unable to tell how,
found in the keyhole of cellar doors waiting,
time putrified like the dorian gray painting,
sailing the quicksand aboard of the ghostship,
waters run deeper in a whirlpool of closed lips,
coasting the cauldron I reached for the ladle,
captain's log chronicles of maritime fables,
stable disorder dispersed in the corner, 
moments trickle like a sweat drop in saunas,
a hoarder of compost resting in hot rocks,
keys that are found in the void by the locked stock,

Hook:
Blueprint of thought, forming the course,
cause and effect in a showdown of force,
spores  of reflection infesting the airways,
making a step on the infinite stairway x2

Stopped clocks tear through the fabric of darkness,
softening the clasp of a diamond hardness,
raven claw sharpness inscribing the thesis,
barriers surrounding are turned into pieces,
the blaze of the phoenix engulfing a white dwarf,
rise of the nova combusts as the sky morphs, 
time warp force fields hold lunar craters,
all is in the balance of celestial equators,
gas cloud vapours dance in the hemisphere,
bucaneers peer from the star city belvedere,
souvenirs cotch on the beds of eternity,
destiny's held within nature's maternity,
sounds of serenity are now resonating,
taming the beast that is slowly deflating,
 scaling the spectrum encasing the zodiac,
sweeping the pins of grenades that I throw back,
facing the blowback, swallowing the shockwave,
sparking the cannon wick, blasting the whole cave,
twisting the concave, tilting the axis,
flicking a matchstick down to the abscess...

Clarity

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

I expose all my prose like I've lost anonymity,
lines I combine will design my epiphany,
trademarks spawn as I tailor the symmetry,
planting my greenery in earths of infinity,
casting my similies in foundries of imagery,
brainstorm puddles stocking up my distillery,
packing letterbombs within every delivery,
I catch you off guard like some sleight of hand trickery,
verbs are the yarns for my pen in hand stitchery,
swimming in the currents of your plugged in auxillary,
barnets bopping back and forth to the symphony,
and leave you light headed like some B12 deficiency,
the humanoid offspring of mastered caligraphy,
holding the mic like it was in captivity,
increase my ki to the heights of divinity,
as me myself and I in an unholy trinity,

I'm criss crossing words like I'm using a bootlace,
silver toungued surfer of alphabet soupwaves,
covering grounds like baldspots with toupes,
squeezing out knowledge like a tube full of toothpaste,
twoface flipping coins; freezing the time flow,
laying down bars like a floor made of lino,
I scope tracks just  like I'm holding a roadmap,
capture the picture like moments for Kodak,
conceptual nomad encrusted in oddity,
contact is made long before my space odyssey,
making suppositries out of the statements,
that wear down my patience like soles on the pavement, 
the syllable assailant; I marinade margins,
shovelling the bullshit to the side like a parting,
departing the tundra to walk to the furnace,
it's Mr. Jack Lumber returning for service...

Off The Meter

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Cellophane window panes crumbled by fire rain,
breaching like killer whales slumping with manta rays, 
Masquerade accolades activate mass decay,
flapping capes masticate castaways catching bait,
All terrain picture frames altercate balls and chains,
allocate saws in cakes so as to break from the cage,
diamond shaped ruby rage coursing through milky lakes,
resting my case like a Greek wedding's dinner plate,
An iron laced pillowcase taming the mare escape,
Stop button's pressed on a boombox of memory tapes,
I instate escapades traced in a dreamy haze,
stuck in this circle like a fresh roll of cellotape,
set to break records in the quicksand of the time before,
sign the clause, slam the door and sail until we reach the shore,
shed the skin, clean the pores, put away all the tiger claws,
apple cores purified upon the finding of the cause,
gaze in awe at genesis reborn besides apocalypse,
see the point like obelisks centered in metropolis,
lobotomized isoceles, the parallel of opposites,
oxymorons oxidize the whole entire composite,
optimizing consciousness and mixing up the condiments,
 lost in a translation where i'm drifting like the continents,
crumbling the monuments with retrospective ordnance,
burning up the covenant by fucking with formulas,
fraudulent deformities evaporate in atmospheres,
I mutilate mirages till the heads beaneath the sand appear,
steering round the paperboat when the coast starts to clear,
the mutineer grabbing rings waiting to return to pier,
I cut the hands off puppeteers and then become the engineer,
filling up my pockets as a lost marble auctioneer,
I commandeer the prophecy and tear it up like holy bread,
waking up the giant in the castle that was put to bed,
spin the thread to recollect the path inside the labyrinth,
 sharpening the blade to face the minotaur I'm battling,
detangling the knots upon medusa's head to walk again,
managing like anakin the ways in which I hold a pen,
emptying out the jagular of the calculus I comprehend,
tipping down an abbacus that's adding up the sombre trends,
make ammends around the bend smacking down the clapperboard,
winding back the whole casette to find a way to strike a chord...

The Late Escape

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Trials of the see saw, swings of the pendulum,
whys bubble up like a glass of dom perignon,
counting my steps on the eggshells im treading on,
searching for light like I'm Thomas Alva Eddison,
editing pages of tales that I fell upon,
with more sides and angles than inside a decagon,
unleashed like a pheromone in airwaves of fallacies,
balancing on life like the sword above damocles,
comical tragedies have bittersweet faculties,
experience survives when mistakes are the casualty,
snakes are engulfing the knowledge tree's canope,
backdrops of irony surround every fantasy,
can it be suddenly, just a coincidence?
a high power's plan where I'm merely an instrument?
mystery's dividend; cloaked in ambivalence,
endings are imminent, so what makes a difference?
innocence lost in a paradise capsize,
swerving on curves where I learn till I flatline,
lodged in the pipline, lost like a tear in rain,
pissing out oil on the base of a raging flame,

Hook:
Tales from the other side, paradigms paralyze,
answers to why shine bright like a firefly,
winters in summertime, wedged in an instance,
wayward on grounds that i touch from a distance x2
 
I'm stuck in a state sorta shaken like bond's drink,
my head's never blank like the pages I don't ink,
guided to walls through my sunglasses rose tint,
hoping to light up the dark with a lost flint,
old stints hide in the rooms of a glasshouse,
what why and when are all wrestling to ask how,
I pass down a place that just feels like a ghost town, 
the sore thumb sticking out like hairs on a short crown...

I Don't Know Why

I can rap in more than Juan way. BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Un boludo medio sabio, escribio 'Querido diario:'
soy mi peor amigo, y el mejor como adversario,
refranes ya nefarios dichos con sus rotos labios,
el escenario muestra dulces suenios hechos agrios,
escondite imaginario reposado en solitud,
flotando en las corrientes de una blanca negritud,
aqui destapa el ataud que contiene lo despedido,
donde clava las verdades como agujas en vinilos,
recibos de una compra dentro e sombras tentativas,
buscando compania para un mundo hecho cenizas,
el marciano que aterriza en la terraza del olvido,
moviendose al compas de su caido crucifijo,
un desastre hecho prolijo en espejismos sobre nubes,
chaparrones en cajones que protejen inquietudes,
las costumbres que se adumbran en la tumba de estas horas,
mensajes en botellas devorados por las olas,
con la cola entre las patas esta rata va corriendo,
cierta fe desvaneciendo como las voces en el viento,
teniendo pocos cuentos, dio alimento para puercos,
transparante como el agua que le falta en su desierto,
el libro bien abierto circulando en desconcierto,
pensamientos van cayendo como las hojas en invierno,
El yerno de un infierno mal parido en paraisos,
Compromiso de un hechiso embalzamado en acertijos, 
Pagando un precio fijo con billetes de experiencia, 
pegando los pedazos del enganio de apariencias,
tragado por la esencia de la causa y consecuencia,
enredado entre las lianas de se oscura decadencia,
abscencias en prescencias, un camino en remolinos,
monedas en la fuente de la plaza del destino,
el cretino campesino apostando en el casino,
esperando que la lluvia se transforme en algun vino,
perdido pergamino, el circulo no cierra,
la pala no atravieza la corteza de esta tierra, 
las garras que se aferran en el borde de este pozo,
un hecho sospechozo en el secreto de sus ojos,
minutos que acumulan y te irritan como piojos,
el candado en el tesoro que se oxida y se hace flojo,
antojos repetidos como un disco ya rayado,
lecciones de una guerra entre el presente y el pasado...

Irony

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Day break comes like a foot through the front door,
moods come down from the top to the ground floor,
it's almost as deep as the belly of the rancor,
maggots are infesting the fruits with a black core,
cans pour worms for the birds with the clipped wings,
walking the plank as an anchor to sink in,
fixed in the bubble bath running in a tarpit,
eyes like gaffer tape stuck to the carpet,
the shadowed black market of underhand promises,
Janus is putting up the back stabbing monolith,
solace is cut with the strike of a guillotine,
heads roll into the basket with kerosene,
legs are like gellatine climbing a slippy slope,
ankles are lashed by a barbed wire skipping rope,
smoke chokes throats in the room with the mirrored walls,
looking down the lip where rogue angels seem to fall,

Hook:
Time going backwards, tilting the atlas,
the world is a stage and we're cast as the actors,
screams that are whispers, genius in madness,
the paradox lies in an ocean of blackness x2

Pouring my guts in a pan for a thick soup,
cooked in an iglu sounding a dim bloop,
notion like hailstones tapping on a tin roof,
steep roots skewer me to floors in a grim coop,
scenes loop round in the monotone carnage,
welcome the frozen brimstone incarnate,
marking the target that's centered in limbo,
rain water seeps through the cracks in the window,
skidrow's carousel spins in my testament,
messages in bottles that are part of the sediment,
settling the dust  for the tracks of a stalemate,
the house cards structure is hosting my pale face,
once again picking at the scabs for a template,
forked tongues forklift piles of my dead weight,
scattered like red slate covering the scorched earth,
lungs of the songbird burst with a forced verse,

Hook:
Time going backwards, tilting the atlas,
the world is a stage and we're cast as the actors,
screams that are whispers, genius in madness,
the paradox lies in an ocean of blackness x2

Dealing my cards with the hand of a dead man,
castles disintegrate in deserts where I fetch sand,
head scans vomit an entire dog breakfast,
venemous developments are swimming in the nectars,
finding more holes in the plot than my dentures,
bouncing from landmines I triggered in the trenches,
stenches of burning flesh blend in a smock of fog,
clogs in the blood flow inking my daily blog,
spat from the bog headfirst into deja vu,
chest caved in from a heart beating black and blue,
truth brews storms that can burst through your teacups,
spilt milk sours when there's no one to clean up,
lean cuts are gold dust in camouflaged butchery,
matte coats smothering the shines of your jewellery,
humdrum buffoonery of flea bitten sagas,
halos of vultures patrolling the carcass...

Hook:
Time going backwards, tilting the atlas,
the world is a stage and we're cast as the actors,
screams that are whispers, genius in madness,
the paradox lies in an ocean of blackness x2

Wake

BEAT BY HUD, MASTERED BY HUD

It's the speech of a mute seen in Venus's spectrum,
Aphrodite paralyzed words to be mentioned,
Ghosts of rejection infesting like headlice,
Trapped in her glance like a rabbit in the headlights,
Lead bites staged in a cage with a bird weep,
Butterflies come alive, iced turf burns feet,
Sleet copulates on the corpse of a hit and miss,
And I'm tranced by the dance of that sugar plum's ruby kiss,
Arrow tips dig and twist, my sickened bliss valentine,
Cold sweat stalactites crack in a hallowed pine,
Shine of a new dime given to this sore gaze,
Hell's mirror sees heaven camouflage her walkway,
Pleasure pain foreplay, a never to an always,
Porcelain symmetries ignite me like a dawnbreak,
Sunrays are faded in secretive natures,
While black fire's swallowing my dream coloured acres,
Fresh coffee vapours unveiling the grand plan,
My heart sinks down like the body of a hanged man,
Sights from a wide span cauterize ruptures,
Chained to remains that her spiderweb captured,
We're actors in factors that tease what we lust for,
Shooting off wings in our hand in glove bloodsport,
Blunt swords swining in the dark of our eden,
Comet tails tangled up surfing these evenings...

We arrive as we're leaving.

Venus In Slumber

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Farewell tidings are sent by the magpie,
blackbox recordings recite from the crash site,
yelling out BANZAI! I charge down the landslide,
flow's holy water for the beats that I baptize,
pressing the remote to exile from the standby,
taking the high dive plunging in tie dyes,
skylights broadcast the streams of a time lapse,
sidetracked, clashing with the facts like a high hat,
I blend and descend in the blues like an icecap,
 eyebags carried to the dorms of a nightcap,
talk like the lines's tapped  armouring memories,
filtered emotions in potions for remedies,
form like the moss on the cemetery's gravestones,
flipping off lids for the scraps that I take home,
fate's now laid like the last supper table,
ending the show cos I've pulled out the cable,
detatched like the cord that was cut from the navel,
I jaywalk in lanes during days when I take falls.
safe mode enabled, run diagnostics,
pilots are gone from inside of the cockpit, 
optical fibres decoding the virus,
third eye born with a spiralling iris, 
sinuses blocked in a stress for a fresh breath,
hoping to push back the date of a set death,
next step's taken, i'm finishing the painting,
embracing the sistine chapel in the making,
lacing the brand new shoes that I'm wearing,
stood here preparing the spins of the bearings,
the sirens are blaring in my mind's city traffic,
visions transcend like some voodoo doll magic,
a voice in the static from the bowels of a tempest,
 outcomes are dreaded like a visit to the dentist,
fences are benches, the garms are a quick fit,
placed in the space as misprinted misfit,
these cryptic elliptical vines are the sanction,
forming a part of my funfair's attraction...

Goodbye

BEAT BY KNOWHOWE, MASTERED BY HUD

Fumes elevate into scapes of a night sky,
stars mirror sleeps that I turned into bitesize,
chunks of a slumped desolation of hindsight,
eyes wide and hands tied dead locked in hangtime,
mansized portions of food for a starved mind,
choices beguiled in a riptide of black brine,
rhinestones blackened by the coals where I cave in,
the weakest of links in the chain that's enslaving,
my name is engraved on a grave of mistaken,
takes for a film that was scrapped in the making,
raking the leaves in the autumns of a why and when,
pricked by the thorns on the roses of now and then,
songs of a fallen wren are silenced in raindrops,
once you're aboard you don't see the ghost train stop,
spinning like a claypot, same track's reeling back,
browsing for hay in the depths of a needlestack,
dogs with their bleeding backs had their days in the sun,
it's russian roulette but we're playing with an empty gun,
substracting every sum thinking you're the only one,
it takes two to tango and the music hasn't yet begun,
what is done, now is done, no time to turn and run,
worlds turn to black like the fusion of the moon and sun,
life's like a foreign tongue when underrun inside the dumps,
lacking in direction like you're Hansel when he lost the crumbs,
giving it some welly in the belly of the beast,
in the hollows of the shadows where we're part of the disease,
searching for release that's as rare as hens teeth,
digging deeper and deeper to the depths of coral reefs,
messing with your sleep like a case of sleep paralysis,
the argument's catalyst for overthinking analysts,
breaking through the chrysallis and wading through the cabbages,
it's cliche as fuck like a bar about cannabis,

Hook:
Fall from the highs till you rise in the lows,
from the doors that are opened to doors that are closed,
a puzzlepiece lost that is outside the box
and it's too fucking late to just turn back the clocks!

Riptides

Nightfall

Track 1, Original song: Unanimous Decision - What A Mess

Lyrics:
It's past 1:35 in a colourless night,
black lunged humdrums where the sagas arise,
hands tied by a page where I'm stuck in insight,
a jackshaft in a clasp masticating a drive,
drift in, drift out, till my conscience ignites,
every thought in my mind like a shower of spikes,
just a wild goose chase as continuity skives,
seconds split in the gist i begin to revise,
looking down from the moon where i choose to recline,
another sudden reprise where nothing's ever clockwise,
I intertwine in the tides of a monsoon of time,
seeing the point that most see in a batchelor's bride,
come to find backsides under shuttering light,
foresight moves by as compositions define,
galvanized by desires which I'm fiending to feed,
plant seeds, fertilize as my stylograph bleeds,

HOOK:
It's the day to day of the things I portray,
many nights spent awake trying to fill up a page,
time shifts, clocks tick in the frame I embrace,
with the one same beat constantly on replay.

Day To Day Feat. Mumble Artz & Mr. Spitta

Track 2, Original song by Mike Heron - Ithaca Street Muzak

Lyrics:
So i'm searching for clues to make up an excuse for the things that I do,
from the stargazed eyes under pink coloured skies to the smooth suede blues,
there ain't much to lose and the things you should keep always bid their adieu,
spewed avenues in a domino effect that reflect every view,
trying to figure what's what? trying figure who's who? 
well, join in the cue cos it ain't nuttin' new,
bathe in the stew of a catch 22 under pendulum moves,
take a walk through gauntlet where beggars can't choose,
shorten the fuse where we all come through in profuse self abuse,
but i'd rather let loose to the groove on the wax that i stack in my room,
and I'll stomp on a beat like a giant that awoke from his snooze,
as I cruise where I bend every word like Geller with the spoons...
Inhale the fumes that pollute for my doom in a tender coccoon,
closure communes, the tune now resumes,
my scriptural dunes passing by just like 99 red balloons,
here I'm wringing my wounds so my ink is maroon,
walls stare back and forth like a duel at high noon,
the painted cartoon of a subtle lampoon,
setting tripwires off with the things I presume,

Not a lot's ever said to the cry for a reason,
views shapeshift with the course of the seasons,
I sit back and watch as I rot in the core,
while I'm putting down notes with the pen in my paw,

Still wedged in a grudge with the clutch of a cobra,
stagnantly sober and slumped on a sofa,
in from the cold where I mold as I throw bars,
chucking more syllables than animals in Noah's ark,
I shine through designs like cherry on a bogart,
dropped on the scrolls from my souls rollercoaster,
see me embark on this maritime moisture,
as I draw for the sword to pry open the oyster,
placed in the holster on the thigh of the storm's eye,
all sights close by blackened by an old time's frostbite...

Seasons Feat. Abstrak on cuts

Track 3, Original song: Cipher - Peeps

Lyrics: 
In a quest to recess all these thoughts manifest,
like the memories before so embedded in my flesh,
I assess the defects I avow to compress,
which infest every breath and my very last step,
the subject to tests where experience invests,
reminisce in the depths and request to regress,
I reflect what I rep still dressed in neglect,
always new to the world like a newborn blessed,
stretch to reject every urge I repress,
many banes that congest in a beehive head,
a freshload of mess that I can't lay to rest,
all week underslept placing bets with regret,
stay adept to dissect these specks I collect,
more or less incorrect in the ends I connect,
from the east to the west my direction supressed,
in a grand hornet's nest but content nontheless...

Hook:
Sitting down zoning till finally awoken,
tussling these omens with every word spoken,
atoning the broken, the hurt and the stolen,
roaming the moments a soul was bestowed in...

In need to recede in a cloud nine seclusion,
attain retribution for points of delusion,
set off all senses like codered intrusions,
then black out the sights like the sun and moon's fusion,
sway from allusions to shadow play movements,
homed in the pipeline desisting the blueprint,
vignettes of a timeline where no point is proven,
idleness hooven with thought patterns snoozing,
constantly fluking through most of my brooding,
shaking off the manacles with serenade grooming,
close shave eluding a backtracking groundforce,
looming like cloudforms forerunning downpours,
spores of a grand poison ivy complexion,
fatal affections narrating defection,
scraping a section that's no longer mentioned,
the central inception of sequence suspencion,

Hook:
Sitting down zoning till finally awoken,
tussling these omens with every word spoken,
atoning the broken, the hurt and the stolen,
roaming the moments a soul was bestowed in...

Rise to the grind set in entropy's clockwork,
observe the longterms of upchucking scoffed dirt,
converse with songbirds exhaling blocked words,
logs of a short burst boxed by a wrong turn,
conserved redundance from tactless to tactful,
pinches of salt that mutated to handfuls,
subdued in fact pools and cold storage standstills,
tip toeing daily on scalings of mindfields,
watch how the scabs peel unveiling the figments,
dipped in the melting pot of all intents,
fixed on debris from a tower made of ivory,
flicking through pages of irony diaries,
dining with leeches in dorms of a preacher,
messagebirds gauge out the eyes of a dreamer,
streaming the snapshot depicting these stages,
facing a stop between rocks and hard places...

Hook:
Sitting down zoning till finally awoken,
tussling these omens with every word spoken,
atoning the broken, the hurt and the stolen,
roaming the moments a soul was bestowed in...

Mindfield

Track 4, Original song: Screwball - On Point

Lyrics:
I arrange to unstrain from this enveloping stage,
another typical phase inside an overused phrase,
lacerating a page whenever ink is embraced,
I copulate with the gaze of all the visions I trace,
trying to keep up the pace among the devil's parade,
inseminating remains within the haze of a blaze,
watching idols decay as they're falling from grace,
amalgamating the hate throughout the direst straits,
to return to the same using a different state,
throwing stones at the sinners when we've never been saints,
as the memories taint you see the world in a grain,
and all of time is confined in every drop of the rain,
it's the sagacity obtained where all miscues are contained,
seeing penumbra refrain into it's blackening reign,
I sow flows in the waves of Leviathan's rage, 
while the beasts that don't sleep bite the bars of their cage,
stay dazed in the games where I'm tucking an ace,
following yarns to the yard where the Minotaur waits,
walk the edge of a blade and sport depravity's graze,
then blow the ashes away and pay return like Jean Grey,
laying hallows to waste beside the gallows I prey,
until there's rubies to take beneath this whole disarray,
the weakest link in the chain found in a thickening shade,
a self inflicted charade, the hanging noose that you braid,
a parabolical maze of diabolical traits, 
sending my tales to the grave where they are never betrayed.
It's all beginning to fade into Oblivion's jaws,
believing fires are tamed by simply closing a door,
the gaping mouth of before rapidly starting to soar,
your ankles bitten and gnawed so that you cannot move forth,
pulling the cord of a parachute that won't break a fall,
treading the highways of all along the sewers I crawl,
imagination is sprawled like autumn leaves taking tolls,
portraits commencing to drawl to let a story unfold.
 Allowing thoughts to revolve caught in existence's vines,
using the bottom of pints like they were telescope sights,
casting all of my rhymes like they were pearls before swine,
I'm finding clues to the truth in an atlantis of wine,
assimilating the signs, incinerating the shrines,
 trek a tightrope of lies with the ends set alight,
it's immortality's bridge above where serpents reside,
memorabilia refined as Northern Lights are combined,
UNBIND, INSCRIBE, BRING DARK INTO LIGHT,
SQUARE EYED LATE NIGHTS NOW BEGIN TO ALLIGN (x4)
I lay beneath a canope of fallacies, ignoring all mortality,
entirely convicted by the shadows of causality,
callously returning from a catacombe of sanity,
reborn among a fantasy, can it be, audacity on harmonies with analytic parodies?
Maybe I'm just a casualty in the genius of the frivolous,
coccooned within a syllabus, severing through my chrysallis with jagged claws of impetus,
ceasing to be rythmless in vividness of images to immortalize a liberty,
satirize with similes while lost within the synergy of incandescent synchronies,
sacrifice a privacy dissected by the judgement in the eyes of many witnesses,
a pick and mix for stimulus and riddlers and various chinese whisperers,
scrupulous for difference in sentiments until an older self's irrelevant,
aware of blissful ignorance and yet remaining to be hesitant.

Penumbra

Track 5, Original song: Jay Zone - Invisible Ink.

Lyrics:
It's the h letterbomb meddlesome next messenger,
questioning fate in a sick city seminar,
chaos realm leveller stormtrooping mayhem,
deep as a basement when making my statement,
crust among rust that consumes my incagement,
pandora's holding the box i'm encased in,
minced by the glimpses my lips are unveiling,
a whole train of thought that's abruptly derailing,
banshee type wailing is shaking the haven,
the bottom fed sapient sailing the wavelength,
mouth as a chamber for rounds i'm retaining,
I speak from the abyss that my brain is entailing,
move on this earth like there's megatons hailing,
just for refrainment from red herring chasing,
charades I'm abasing with words that I'm placing,
defacing the faceless in beasts that I'm taming,
The silhouette scathing the pavement I'm pacing,
remain as I fade like memorial engravings,
brading the noose for the few that I'm blaming,
containing the scoop in a soot covered lacing,
put my verse forward like a clock's daylight savings,
plans come at random like pregnant bint cravings,
peep through the cracks in the moulds we were made in,
seeking the context to concepts I'm straining,
As usual awaking in dank pandemonium,
with weight I contain that could strike for petroleum,
imbibing on odium in need for sedation,
a quick deviation from life's adumbrations,
asleep contemplating a blasphemed analogy,
interstrands coursing a paradox alchemy,
cascading sanity mirroring NASDAQ,
dragging my desires like a rat through the catflap,
square one backhand slaps to the dryland,
tweaking my habits like the height on a micstand,
floating in widebands streaked in my synapse,
scoping my steps in effect as I mind gaps,
aiming for right tracks distracted in limbo,
hoping to snap like a branch when the wind blows,
parting a wishbone in Hyacinth housing,
scorn taking form in the storm that I'm riding,
compiling my findings among powdered noses,
honourless thieves and the wizard sleeve hoaxes,
aloof, but the closest to all my aversions,
two kinds of minds in the first and third person,
learning immersed in a rabid blast furnace,
a ribcage furnished with a heart like a turnip,
burning infernos dilluted in smirnoff,
drowning the sound in the howling of sermons,
perched on the fringe of a boondoggle's barnet,
varnishing parts of the gridlock I harness...


Spitlock

Track 6, Original Song: CunninLynguists - Dirty 

Lyrics:
Zoom through the lanes of my visionary highway,
breaking the limits in a highspeed mindframe,
sights on a skyscape balancing on high stakes,
shedding all skins like thaw to an ice age,
earthquake migraines crumbling the bedrock,
destiny deadlocks with futures in a deadstop,
a place where I fetch loss found where the ends cross,
struck by the luck in a fool's gold's fake gloss,
freefalls of chance in the flips of a tossed coin,
time running short like the ink in my ballpoint,
born as the dots join in highwire acting,
scratching the walls in the maze that i'm trapped in,
jangling marksman missing piss targets,
laughing while barging through rotten meat markets,
where one man's loss is another man's harvest,
and everything else is determined by chances...
selfish, depressed and obsessed like a bitter cunt,
ceasing the stress with some cess and a bit of rum,
looking dumb slipping on the poison on dancefloors,
waiting on the drink I should've already asked for,
down goes the next one and nothing concerns me,
head replicating a carousell journey, 
bring my attorney to face all your judgements,
cloak my whole throat with smoke in abundance,
wake to the face in a state of repugnance,
pasting the jigsaw of a night of indulgence,
link the circumference of conscience lingering,
angels and demons engage in their bickering,
packs of hienas in dark corners sniggering,
fuck what you say cos you wont see me listening,
eyes still glimmering in waterfall chunder,
the only one time where i no longer wonder, 

Fool's Gold Feat. JesSTa

Track 7, Original song: 3rd Eye - Circle

Lyrics:
With a face down I gaze round at then, now and after,
five knuckles out for a wall made of plaster,
the scabs are the pages for writing all chapters,
a hostage in hospice of one unknown captor,
grounds never touched like cobwebs on rafters,
masked by the laughter of the trick's overcaster,
Drifting back as I skuttle on my previous tracks,
portraits are contorted as I'm spying through the window crack,
wedged in the bric a brac seen as a dark mirage,
jackhammer hearts palpitating in this avatar,
aceless in packs of cards straight to transfixion,
the makeshift affliction of true versus fiction,
proxies by foxes with sillicone diction,
the blaze from the stick that was put under friction,
water under bridges from an age of restriction,
it seems to be concrete that ain't truly mixing

Hook:
Are we done with this run of all coming undone?
Do we sit back and wonder at what's to become?
Do we count all the sums when we point at the one?
Is it really just you? or is it just everyone?

Now I'm digging two graves with the spade of revenge,
it's the pace of descent in a cyanide blend,
cutting loose ends in the falsest pretense,
return as we send when we're making amends,
strike for the light in the innards of a killerwhale,
razorlines define the safer side among a withered trail,
setting sail in litter seas behind the fog of broken pacts,
bleeding backs comprise the knack of vermin in a hungered pack,
prise the hatch open, letting snakes depart the demon flight,
spikes of any kind would be suficient to provide a spine,
look behind and underline the styles of wretched scenery,
your future's turned to history, the past is still a mystery,
hands of greed are blistering, inflamed insatiability,
kindness is debility and strength is in iniquity!
I'll never come together with these birds of a feather,
I'll just fade in the shades of the sands of forever,
everything's the same and nothing is better,
same thing is a fool compared to a great professor,
settling for lesser where the meaning is slept on,
answers are apparent but i still have to question...

Hook:
Are we done with this run of all coming undone?
Do we sit back and wonder at what's to become?
Do we count all the sums when we point at the one?
Is it really just you? or is it just everyone?

We Done Then

Track 8, Original song: Nick Wiz - For Da Mental. The sample at the beginning is from the opening of Mean Streets. 

Lyrics:
Ashtray skylines framing the highrise,
wounds are unsealed by a pale white sunrise,
cut short and tongue tied in paradigm tarpits,
gracing the stretch of a rainwater carpet,
cases from baskets that feast on the frostbite,
still clenching fists in the blizzard of a lost fight,
river dams gone dry in skydiving apathy,
cyclopes crowned in the grounds where you cannot see,
knocked off the canope in unripe actuality,
archived misanthropy garnishing tragedy,
watched in the gallery caping entombed dreams,
former self pillow talk mounted on moonbeams,
loose nuts in blue schemes in motion with cycles,
scenes transpire like a dew during nightfall,
scribing recitals devicing catharsis,
plagued by the stench of a latter day's carcass,
notice the silence engulf as a dense smock,
angels depart flapping wings made of hemlock,
stocks of a bled rock are set in indecision,
fractured apparitions that are smothering fruition,
gemstones glisten in the prism of the wreckage,
clock needles tick like a morse code message,
blemishing a premise in a shadowland limelight,
coursing the vortex of spiralling guidelines,
shrouded in hindsight of crashlanding high nights,
flicker flash highlights arrange like a tie dye,
medleys of white lies that form into sacklotch,
life is a tinderbox, my mind a lit match dropped,
nostalgia's lapdog licking wounds, stitching up,
digging dirt, rigging luck, filling cups, killing guts,
hate and love fisticuff for a diamond in the rough,
buckled up sitting ducks go for bust stabbing dusk,

Hook:
Thunderstruck outerlines lie aside clashing tides,
fire inside rising high bleeding dry reasons why,
serpentine grand designs travel in the contrast,
swallowing the ways with the rythm of a bomb blast,

Shadowland Memoirs

Track 11, Original song: D.Evil Man Feat. Paranorm - God VS The Devil. The sample at the end is from Apocalypse Now.

Lyrics:
Twilight strikes on facades of belief,
claws on the blackboard commencing to screech,
deeds for your creed all leeched during sleep,
a pawn for the streak as the circle completes,
placed underneath with the strings on your limbs,
numbering days in a vacant precinct, (but)
diamonds blink in a velvet eclipse,
from the pit where you sit since your fingertips slipped,
move the rubble of the blitz and ascend with the phoenix,
dig down deep like  the hands of bulimics,
the picture is scenic in manifold tapestry,
spied with the sights of a crystalized clarity,
stripped from the grip of a white sheep family,
out of a basket of whitewashed chastity,
step to the stage of a ragnarok parody,
sail throughout waves of a perfect storm's anarchy,
ravage all galilee in pursuit of the kingfish,
stand at the apex of nosebleed ballistics, 
natural mystics of cryptic eurythmics,
are glyptics inflicted inside my linguistics,
torment depicted in fairground motley,
typhoon doom populating minds coarsley,
lost sea pirates conquer the solstice,
poisoning hope like the points on a blowfish,
beauty turned ogrish enslaved to an opposite,
mystery common links locked in a crock of shit,
strapped to a rocket ship sent to false promises,
silver screens boggling the guests of apocalypse,
all nerves joggling following the trapdoor,
cracks in the hourglass open a sandstorm,
wait at the platform to boarder the ghost train,
see what you didn't in a life with a false name,
scouring the low plains and putrified centers,
blackening the rainbows in rabbit hole ventures,
lodged in the dentures of mundane epiphanies,
living dreams furnished by a mourning day symphony,
pentagram symmetries running through the living hell,
pennies for your thoughts at the bottom of a wishing well,
always see, never tell, cowering in tattered wings,
dodging as the hammer swings, shining in the black of sin,
 grab the finn slapped on the back of Leviathan,
pace in the flames once you abandon the frying pan,
infrared anagrams decorate sewerpipes,
glassjaw charlatans give a hand choosing sides,
allibis spin a lie washed up in higher tides,
wolves in a stolen hide move like a private eye,
(me?) I'm the bastard of father time, gazing from grey clouds,
rattling the knowledge tree like jackals in a henhouse,
truth is the forbidden fruit I'm spitting at your raised brow,
placing my flag on this worm stricken waste mound,
dead sounds come down like torn apart lotus,
paving the way for a legion of locusts...

Hook:
Visions transcend like winter to fall,
ignite the sights in the hallways of all,
walls move in tighter in this token asylum,
where dominos fall in a pindrop silence...

BeLIEf

Track 12, Original Song Lord Digga - All World. The sample at the beginning is a spy numbers station...

Lyrics:
Enter the episode, armageddon letter tone,
lexicon demigod, headnod stepping stone,
DEFCON 1 emanates as I pen a scroll,
watch me transform in the mushroom cloud centerfold,
ink splits paper like skies in a thunderstorm,
handling pens like the tail of a xenomorph,
doppelganger shadowform of all that i was before,
been baptized in the fires of a metaphor,
genocide oratore, choirs from the cellar door,
jargon juggernaut, lungs in a tug of war 
carve every art with the horn of a minotaur,
leaving my print like the paws of a dinosaur,
metal claw molotov monlogue conoisseur,
step ashore straight from the jaws of a rotten core,
spawn to the raven caws in satanic sacrilege,
capture the terror through my freelance coverage,

Hook:
False rap operatives crushed by the monolith,
paint the decay on the scapes of metropolis (x4)

Swipe as I write like the doctrine of Stalinists,
a blacklist activist of covert sciences,
bloodstreams filling in the brass metal challices,
focal point nihilist of binary balances,
6th sense manualist for inner being heresies,
biting the hand of a puppet string legacy,
desecrate states in my modern day effigy,
soundwave telepathy in big brother's tenancy,
embrace the clemency of 101 residents,
tied to the elements in cyclones of decadence,
underground prevalence forced by an opposition,
infiltrate iron gates transcoding bigger visions,
art of war saboteur operating in division,
metaphysic holy spirit populating intermissions,
shadow force course in transmissions of a definition,
sledgehammer grammar putting cracks in your television,

Hook:
False rap operatives crushed by the monolith,
paint the decay on the scapes of metropolis (x4)

Pockets of resistance uprise as I build a verse,
spreading every word like I smashed bits of china work,
I averse minitru propagating every curse,
A & R prostitutes selling souls to fill their purse,
sterilized minds monetized from your citadel,
packaging thoughts as you fabricate sleeper cells,
I'll spit mortar shells aimed at your bourgeosie,
burn the menagerie ran by your thought police,
cyclone b mp3 leaking through the speaker frame,
imprint the hints like the tint of the mark of caine,
acid rain blessings for the dressings of your echelon,
terrordome storming in search of the megatron,
brimstone velodromes separate remanents,
cloak/dagger bladerunner unmasking  replicants,
still i persist in this black handed industry
pulling out tales from a den of iniquity...

F.R.O

Track 13, Original song: KDD - Orange Mechanique (Clockwork Orange) 

Lyrics:
Timberline kind of life, mind alike a cosmodrome,
infiltrating chromosomes beyond the point of soaking bones,
open zone frequencies encoded in my imagery,
hooking up receptor points to sattelite proximities,
mongrel capillaries are trademarks of my habitat,
my words in raps are like shemaghs on top of yasser arafat,
militant syllable quarterbacks arrive on tracks like mars attacks,
dialectic paraquat deployed in by the tunnel rat,
stylograph paragon in embers of an avalon,
paragraphs paradrop paralysing analogues,
navarone hired gun, spokesman of the smoking lungs,
thunderbolt that speaks in tongues in pressure points like shaolin monks,
underslung dragon fist tarnishing a manuscript,
paladin comparatist questioning a manic strip,
lucky dip days and nights blown away like candle light,
panda eyed sparky type holding up a sleazy drive,
pondering from steeple heights at all the works of you and I,
compromised for asking why, plunging like olympic dives,
leaving mics pulverized like a fallen chandelier,
tenderized between the ears among a fog that barely clears,
interfere with silverlines jumping up to catch a link,
exorcising demons in the screenings of my patch of ink,
mumble on a crumbled brink's landsliding aftermath,
always run on empty while descending into shiva's path,
 live a half world's apart from all the shit you care to grasp,
rocketting from boiling points that populate like coins in jars,
crave the stark archetype resting on a bed of spikes,
falling down and touching ground like icarus when failing flight,

Hook:
Iron clad baccarat, spinal tap bag of raps,
snapping back hearing cracks, feel it in your marrow gaps,
abstract artifacts, put it on your treasure maps,
circulate knacks with a kick snare n hi hat,

Ironclad feat Critical Troubadour

Track 14, Beat by Critical Troubador, sample from Dune.

Lyrics:
 Well it's the B-612 character, interstellar scavenger,
manifest flows as the milky way mariner,
deadspace dabbler and saturn ring dangler,
andromeda traveller and microcosm grappler,
northstar manqueller of outerworld colonies,
blackhole prophecies surround my space odyssey,
enterprise prodigy, celestial city messenger,
stacking gold dust as a moonshine peddler,
lunar base settler constellations are my spiderweb,
hercules of effigies entangling the hydra heads,
surfing on a fighter jet through ultraviolet timewarps,
find me hopscotching on a planetary catwalk,
mother nature's backtalk echoes in the system,
the stories giving origins to big bang's victims,
particles in friction circling eternity,
dexterity comparable to asteroid complexities,

Capricorn lovechild, supernova Godspawn,
tighter than Orion's belt when me and Taurus lock horns,
meteoric popcorn in Nebula lagoons,
chase the trails of comet tails till everything's in tune,
the words I say will never fade like footprints on the moon,
all clustering like butterflies in blue galactic bloom,
commanding my platoon past the cosmos and its myriads,
crossing third dimensions using sattelites as lillypads,
the relics which I'm bringing back, I found in 2010,
an extra sense was given then encapsuled in my pen,
I ride the back of Pegasus in states of zero gravity,
a racing track I placed around the galaxy's anatomy,
tecknicolour clarities descend beyond the ifinite,
fireworks of frequencies that metamorph my intellect,
psychedelic waterfalls that heighten sensitivity,
a msytery's divinity in flowerbuds of secrecy...

Super Conductors Feat. Critical Troubador

I only do this for fun; so please don't take it seriously, it'd be silly to...

BLUEPRINT OF THOUGHT OUT NOW

Jack Lumber

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