Written & Produced by Pat Battle. 

LYRICS:

[VERSE 1]
Now I don't know why you would imply that I'm a regular guy
I'm assumin' that you're zoomin' in with secular eyes
Whether or not I try to fit in, I'm resistant to an image
Though I'm admittin' the hoppin' and hippin' has hit its limit
Then what's my incentive? I see a need to be inventive
Every sentence I've written will exhibit to all you dipshits
This script hits hard, and if your armor isn't fitted properly
Honestly, you're probably a target for gimmicks
My brain sizzles like an egg up in a skillet
Do what the hell I mari-wanna dude, fuck a critic
I'm ownin' every moment of this scrimmage while I'm in it
Since long life isn't, second chances ain't a given
The tickin' doesn't quit until the minute I'm finished
Clocks and watches limit options - I'm infinite in spirit
Spaced out, but every asteroid Pat avoids
With tactical poise, decoys sit back and enjoy
A mathematical track from a Radical Boy

[HOOK]
I don't give a fuck about a dollar and a dream
No puppet on a string I'm a (Radical Boy)
Not quite gutter, though I'm far from a sucker
Did I stutter mother fucker? R-R-Radical Boy
All in all I know I'm pretty odd, yeah dawg, but I'm raw
Though flawed, I'm a (Radical Boy)
They ask me what I'm doin'? I tell 'em being human

[VERSE 2]
So Kanye's a god? That's odd, cause I'm agnostic
The science of my rockin's impervious to a prophet
Hip Hoppers Anonymous is ominous as politics
Deep pockets put improper logic into prominence
My talk ain't cheap, but not a fee you can quote
If you're thinkin' I'ma charge for what I wrote - I won't
The dimension I was sent from, this we call a sacrifice
Where karma revolves around us all like a satellite

[BRIDGE]
Get down with the smoked out boogie
You won't believe what Patrick does to people
I'm gonna do a finishing move on you! Hi-Ya!
Fatality
Super Dope - Super Duper Duper Dope
I've seen it all, give me a cigarette bro
My lexicon will rock on for eons
Hip Hop is back sucka

[VERSE 3]
Fuck lights, camera, action
You hear me snappin' like there's no tomorrow
Almost as if every breath is borrowed
I walk a separate echelon, no level that you've ever dawned upon
So when I descend, guess what I'm steppin' on?
Capitalist rappers who be masterin' shit backwards
I'm grabbin' your attention
Whether cash I'm catchin' afterward or not
See A&Rs scavenge for the average come lunch time
No appetite for talent, what a punch line
Imagine it - I'm laughin' so bad I split my abdomen
Like someone accidentally swung an axe in it
Muggles wanna rumble when they never took a magic class
Asshole - Go pull a whole hat out of a rabbit's ass
It's kinda sad, these little lads follow fads
While I'm runnin' fucking fast
Trying to duck under the underpass for cover
Where others wanna wonder why I'm cussin' mad
Really? I don't have half the patience your mother has
So while you fakers stay complacent in this Matrix
I'm draggin' down the drapes if I should happen to escape it
These Hipster-Aid cases got you mother fuckers wasted
Let's unlace the Kool-Aid, trace it back to the basics
With sick verbal content, dizzy lyrical concepts
The instrumental's ill, and my skill is the onset
Complex view, loose screw, new void
This imagination coup is proof that in fact
Pat Bat-tle is a Radical Boy

[HOOK]
Yeah and so it goes, I make masterful noise
No mere pioneer, I'm a (Radical Boy)
Acrobatically leap into the beat, yeah dawg
And it's kinda like my job to be a (Radical Boy)
It's clear that I'm weird, still lend me an ear
There's no need to fear, I'm a (Radical Boy)
Hearing is believing, I'm a practical choice (Yo, check it out)

[REFRAIN]
Anybody with rhymes, I got rhymes too
More live and ready to out-rhyme you
Who? Me - I'm a Radical (Radical)
Stolen property on an audio odyssey
Make no apologies, cause I'm Radical (Radical)
Radical - Radical? Radical - Radical

Radical Boy (Radio Edit)

Written and Produced by Pat Battle.

LYRICS:

Hi, I'm the Gadfly, really nice to meet ya
The type to jack a rapper's track simply through a feature
Reach out through the speaker then proceed to eat you creatures
A monster's at the plate, all of y'all retreat to the bleachers
Eenie-Miney-Mo, catch a rapper rhymin' slow
Then we slap him in his throat, no we never let him go
Cause my brothers who had knowledge
Were targeted by the farmers
Cause a nigga with a brain back then wasn't on the market

Such niggas wasn't niggas, they were Black men, Africans
Fully literate, diligent, indigenous to "Kush"
That's a natchy word for Africa stupid, pick up a book
Lost boy in a Neverland, but no this isn't "Hook"
See, my blood comes from Eden
So when preachers get to preachin'
I be breathin' weed smoke up in they face with good reason
See them heathens were the demons they urged needed defeatin'
With their feedin' of the clergy and rebuking of the needy
For millennia nobody could really speak on it freely
Like Dickens, the twist thickens the plot, it's getting meaty
Now rap is "fuck you" enough to cultivate the rage
Words spoken at my grave will be quoted on the stage
Everybody raise your mother fuckin' hands hire
I'm hip hop, I ain't dead, the fans fan the fire
The higher I aspire then that's where the fuck I'm takin' it
If pigs fly, burst, and precipitate bacon bits -

I still wouldn't purchase that assertion of me makin' it
In exchange for forsakin' what my angle on language is
Use it as a tool, perform tricks, it ain't shit
But then I gotta flip the script, say somethin' sick you won't forget
Spit that slick bit of wit, that kind you can't predict
When you hear it for the first time while ridin' in your whip
Minus all the hip, I got the hop down pat -
Battle anybody who'll quickly decipher that, let me explain
The minute they put my name in the game
I'll make it rain acid flame on this lame paper chain
Cause my budget's very low, but my stuff is very dope
Like pushers on the corners of urban area codes
There's no bottom line, though there is a header
"MC Mocks Capitalism In One Endeavor"
Ain't a doubt word of mouth is what'll put me on
Verbal mafioso, Vito LyriCorleone

For every word I've written I've visited the commission
For permission to put a hit on this particular diction
Rarely is restriction even barely the decision
So I'm very liberated in literal mannerisms
Lyrics untamed, hit your brain like aneurysms
Fuck pop music dude, I'm opening a can of rhythm
So take that fake hipster shit back to the drawin' board
And figure how the fuck you're gonna deal with this carnivore

Devour more power every hour by the shroom
Bouncin' off of Bowser over towers to the moon
You cower like the flower who never learned how to bloom
While Pat Battle's attachin' the Bap back to the Boom
Cause he knew back when he found crack in his room
That the struggle was eternal, so he ain't actin' a fool
I don't care how many cats get snatched from the pool
You work for them, I work for us, don't get it confused

Disregard the buzz and the digital distribution
You either part of the problem or part of the solution
But if it ain't yours and it's Final - it's vital
Now your idols stand idle while the state gets genocidal
They'll say it's getting better like it's all a recital
And the premiere ain't even near - modern global libel
But the fittest know survival
I'm alive and my revival is transcendin' the chatter
Cause I know I'm made of matter
And the means by which I string vocabulary's necessary
Can't tell me what to write - I master every chapter
They can blackball me all day and crack on me, okay
Then gag on these Black balls on every other off day
Even when them crackas called us niggas in them hallways
I knew telling the truth in the booth, I would do it always
Hashtag - Fuck all that sad crap pawns play
Step in my direction as a threat, you've gone the wrong way

Gadfly (Radio Edit)

Written by Pat Battle and Andie Kritikos. Produced by Pat Battle. 

LYRICS

[Verse 1]
First off, rap's fuckin' back, remember that
A mad Black reactin' on a track, remember that?
Since hip went safe, I had to hop on the case
And crack the proper combination to see where we ended at
And repossess the fumble, plus harvest any yardage
Maybe gained before this Game of Microphone Thrones started
Retarded - Y'all brawlin' for a crown that don't exist
We supposed to shed light on what the others might of missed
And put a twist on the shit as if written by Charles Dickens
They'll gulp reality if you can pulp it into fiction
Admit it, I spit it the way nobody every did it
Just rippin' it into bits only to pick up and restitch it
Sincere vision - Step into a clearer mirror image
Here, listen - Here's the definition of what isn't
Imprisoned by a system of present popular livin'
All you're gettin' is everything I was given
In rhythm as it was written

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
I got some deep dark secrets
I keep hidden away
And when the world breaks in and tries to change me
I stay secret the same

[Verse 2]
Everywhere I go, they say "Yo, that's the Dopeman!"
He the one to fuck with if you're lookin' for some substance
No alarm, I mean no harm, all I farm is jargon
If you test it then I betcha I can get you in my clutches
Now anytime you need a prime rhyme, who do you hit up?
The flashy mother fuck in the dead giveaway getup?
Or the mack Dracula whose vernacular never sucks?
Wack rappers get stuffed in the back of Acura trucks
Slapped, cuffed, and snuffed - Hacked up and dumped
Down the boulevard of broken dreams
Never to be seen amongst the envy of the green
It's even more obscene
If you can see who's pullin' every little string behind the scenes
Means I gotta kick somethin' that means somethin'
Your fussin' don't mean nothin'
I function off of verbal esteem young'n, you buggin'
It's like y'all got lost in spirit
I don't understand language of people with soft lyrics
I don't hear it

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
Broken glass is falling
Over my pretty face
I look God in the eye, wink and smile
It's the same shit every day

[Verse 3]
So I talk a lot - I ain't got a whip, yeah I walk a lot
Smoke good, that's understood, regardless if I cough or not
I like my speakers peakin'
Though my neighbors love to call the cops
Fiends litter the Green Line, they always exit off my stop
Right down the road is where they often go to hustle rock
Where it ain't peculiar when the thugs aim and buck a shot
Word? That's a third world curved around a suburb
Fucked! If I was asked to describe it in one word
People got what they got and they get what they get
The middle class ignore the poor so they can scorn all the rich
And if either would switch places, they'd plead for the same basics
Is it me or just humanity who's off on the script?
Not I - I'm like Popeye - Spinach makes me grimace
So you chitlins best gettin' raisin' the stakes unless you chicken
Lyrics as finger lickin' as diggin' ribs at a picnic
In the park with the Mexicans - Generation Let Me In
You 'bout to let me out this cage though, when I say so
Philosophies can shape shift like Plato made of Play-Doh
From cradle to the grave bro, sporting a broken halo
Come and fuck with my art and depart with a swollen A-hole
Moment I'm on the payroll's the day I'm getting fired
Cause money's what a bank holds
I'm pocketing a riot with my rhymin'
And my genre's in the rough, so I'm a diamond
Though I'm shinin' I still find myself survivin' on this Ramen
Not a problem

[Hook: Andie Kritikos]
The police keep knockin'
Some 'bout a noise complaint
I say officer please, haven't done not a thing
Understand, I just have to sing

I got some deep dark secrets
I keep hidden away
And when the world breaks in and tries to change me
I stay secret the same

[Repeat 1st Hook x1]

The Dope Man (featuring Andie Kritikos)(Radio Edit)

Written & Produced by Pat Battle

LYRICS:

[Hook]
What it is? If you got that live life, live it kid
You only get it once and then it's gone, man who you kiddin'?
When I'm in the house, I vibe, throw my hands up in the sky
Both middle fingers high if you live life live

What it is? If you got that live life, live it dawg
You only get it once and then it's gone, man who you kiddin'?
When I'm in the house, I vibe, throw my hands up in the sky
Both middle fingers high if you live life live

[Verse 1]
I'm a one man mosh pit
By the time I'm in line I've lost it
Frosted - next to froze
Like an eskimo's cold testicles
On a quest you know - for festivals
Respect the show, don't wreck it yo
This is my escape, afraid I can't afford to go to Mexico
And unless the Go starts gettin' Chi'
Caca flows will never fly
So ha ha to those who try, but will never be as fresh as I
No matter how windy this city is
I'm planted firm like "really kid?"
You drooling rhymes on a spitty bib
I'm death grippin' every a gritty gig
My shitty crib's like a bear cave
Winter comes, I'm barely seen
Spring brings some rare play
Summer starts, it's fair game
So rap's wack? I don't the share the blame
They wanna pop the lock and put me in a box
Stop - Not in this Chicago where I prop my building blocks
I see it live and live it, so the transition is vivid
It is nothing that you vague, depraved, lames could ever envision
Whether you inch in through the next trend
Or spend spend on gettin' spins
These breaks are great, but they'll never bend
My love for this, it wasn't meant to end

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Is that caution knockin' inside my noggin?
Nah, I probably got a Molly problem
Pop the E - Hop the L - Bound Downtown, I'm a sound hound
I come to shows, I'm in the front row
Like a parking spot for the handicapped
Understand the back: I am not a fan
Cause I wanna stand where the band be at
If the plan we hatch is a match for us
Pack a batch, you know Pat'll puff
And the rent-a-pigs can't hassle us
First of all they gotta capture us
My very essence since adolescence
Is catchin' acts with a massive presence
I'm turnin' up for my thirty bucks
And you best believe I make a rad impression
Damn - Who be the brother who's lovin' just every number?
And makin' the rest of the clowns around him
Waken to sound from out of their slumber?
It's a true fan - where do you stand?
Well I'll be damned, you got two hands
You won't clap it up cause you bad and tough?
It's all act, in fact, wrap it up
Just pack your stuff, and exit right, just left of the newsstand
Oh, Women are watching - word up? Know what?
Well - Couldn't give half a fuck
My palms'll always elevate to enforce my endorsement
Well of course, except for law enforcement, but it is what it is

[Hook] x2

Live Life Live (Radio Edit)

Written & Produced by Pat Battle. 

LYRICS

[Verse 1]
If the reason rap's been weak is a secret, then you should keep it
I don't need it in the type of crowd I hang around and be with
I bend any procedure to my leisure as I see fit
And diss you before I ever believe you like a prefix
90% of what rappers spit is shitty filler
And the 5% percent that's real ain't even all that really iller
I illustrate, juxtapose highs upon the lows
Swimming in a sea of prose, fleeing undertows
Underclass, an accident of history
Don't mention me in mysteries
Though racially I know not what I'm made to be
So this is my essay, an attempt to circumvent
Every fence disconnecting me from entering and yet -
Whatever's on the other side, what if I can't describe?
And I'm lost inside a vibe of translation like a tribe
From my nation when them guys came and took us for the ride
Of our lives - Slaves making waves against the tide
Over ripples, middle passage to the riddle's pretty simple
This ain't my native tongue and I don't wanna read your "Bible"
You can babble 'bout your afterlife
But as long as I'm grabbin' mics
It's bright, like the night lit a wick of a stick of dynamite
Reporter on the beat, recordin' notes to meet a quota
What I wrote is dope as coke and the beat is the baking soda
So the blow that I impose on any bro'll crack his nose
Existential KO's from paranormal laced flows
Cased closed, my bass got your face froze, Space Ghost
Coast to coast, possess a verbal dose, I'll play the host
Firebomb your earnings, burn your bread until it's toast
Cause MCs is cheesy all they do is chase the dough - Oh
LOL fellas, I'm one hell of a competitor
Depend not on a trend setter to measure what is clever, bruh
Will I ever be weathered by all the pressure? Never Suh
My typeface is custom while you fucking with Helvetica

[Hook: Highest Low & Pat Battle] x2
Look up in the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane
Nothing in the sky, ain't a damn thing changed
You caught up in the hype as you scrolling down the page
We all just a slave to a minimum wage

[Verse 2]
It goes RAWR! RAWR! Like a dungeon dragon
What just happened? Worse than what you punks imagined
Once I'm rappin' - nothing alleviates the weight
Of any statement I could make in this here media debate
Cause the greedier the people be, the seedier the fate
Empty bottle role models speedy on the take
If you leave me at the lake, then it'll lead me to the gate
No need to feed me, I stay meaty eatin' MCs off my plate
I munch 'em by the bunches as part of my daily lunches
You can trust that it's destructive, the method of my consumption
Been nothin' short of patient, I've waited for the occasion
That necessitates a state of rearrangin' all the basics
Motherfuckers who can't seem to comprehend my mantra
Are hiding in the wrong genre, try again mañana
Back to the drawing board boy, draw your sword
It's time to engage battle, wars over mic cords

[Hook x2]