1. |
Comfy
03:52
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Verse 1
BS:
Comfort's the reason for my survival
Stress is a virus, relaxing is vital
Regrets are mistakes, treat mistakes like type-o's
when live moves fast you need to drive slow
AR:
No don't get it twisted, call me hedonistic...
And here's the reason why:
Pleasure ain't the sole goal of my endeavors
I just think being comfortable is so fly
BS:
Catch me at home, eatin' pasta
Netflix on, rockin' boxers
Sippin' Jameson, laidback posture
On my do-that do-that re-re-lax-lax proper!
AR:
I drink delirium tremens from a plastic sniffer
Sittin' on the roof eyeing the big dipper in slippers
No underwear, I prefer the open air
Focused on my jewels like a debeer's picture
BS:
Don't mind if I do make myself at home
Piss with the door open, charge my cellphone
Rummage through your fridge, peek in medicine cabinets
Drink your last Coke and take your vitamin tablets
AR:
I like booze that's easy to sip on
I also like shoes, especially when they're sip on
And that does not make me lazy...
It's the 21st century: efficiency, baby!
Chorus:
If you don't care 'bout what folks think
You just do what you do, drink what you drink
Say what you say, go where you go
Act like you act, know what you know
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you like being comfortable.
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you love being comfortable.
Verse 2:
AR:
I love being comfortable, muy comodo
I'll trade you my blazer for a silk kimono
I like to live life according to my ways
So every work day is casual Friday.
BS:
No Geechi Suede, cleaning maids,
Cashmere sweaters or fear of being lame
Fitted? CHECK
SB's? CHECK
Clothes are clean enough (sniff) ready to jet!
AR:
Went to a bar in Soho, then I said "Oh no...",
You step inside, I will not go.
Porque?? A twelve-dollar corona is beyond loco,
Comprende?
I don't give a damn about your ambience
Bartenders speaking French, though none of them come from France
Mediocre cocktails flowing like a fountain,
No one's horny, they just want out their uncomfy outfits.
Chorus
If you don't care 'bout what folks think
You just do what you do, drink what you drink
Say what you say, go where you go
Act like you act, know what you know
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you like being comfortable.
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you love being comfortable.
Bridge: (BS & AR)
So comfortable, so comfortable (x3)
AR: Like having sex on top a unicorn that's riding a cloud!
Bridge: (BS & AR)
So comfortable, so comfortable (x3)
AR: PSA y'all!
Verse 3
AR:
Comfort does not have to be unprofessional,
Going to work smelling like sweaty testicles.
You can be comfortable in your skin,
Without it being slimy like canned fruits and vegetables
BS:
Your disgusting comfy,
Makes me uncomfortable.
You smell like rotten lunchmeat,
left in the sun a month or so.
Swaggin' about like your ass farts roses
White-tee, pit-stains, hella' halitosis
I'm standing and I STILL smell your feet,
the wreak's reach has gotta be 5 feet at least!
Dead-ass, you got t-minus 3
to hop up in the shower, get to brushing your teeth
Earthy don't mean dirty, get that ass to the beach
or we're just not friends anymore --- PEACE!
Chorus
If you don't care 'bout what folks think
You just do what you do, drink what you drink
Say what you say, go where you go
Act like you act, know what you know
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you like being comfortable.
Then you're feeling the way that I feel,
And you love being comfortable.
Bridge: (BS & AR)
So comfortable, so comfortable (x3)
AR: Like doing nude backflips on a memory foam mattress!
Bridge: (BS & AR)
So comfortable, so comfortable (x3)
BS: Like you're walkin' on water, rockin' satin silk slip-ons!
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2. |
Talk About It
02:48
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Verse 1
AR:
Hey, how you doin', my man?
Down for a little conversation?
Oh, you're too busy right now...
Paper chasin' and rat racin'
I'd proclaim “what a shame”,
but we both know it's a game
Pretend to listen while scripting our next phrase
Now, on to the next one, my favorite bank clerk
Smiling courtesy is just a part of your work
You don't really wanna know how I have been,
What I've been up to, who I look up to
What I believe, what I hope to achive
And if you did, who's to say I'd trust you?
I'm just another transaction, required interaction
In a trance we walk the earth, play acting passing for passion
I'm asking that you let me past your outer defences
Abandon the hand-dug trenches, give us a shot at genuine friendship.
Our lives are far from endless and this much I know:
A seed with no water lacks the impetus to grow.
Let's go somewhere where small talk can't survive,
Far beyond the rabble rabble...just you and I.
Chorus: (AR)
So many lonely people, not enough time
Let's discover one another one line at a time.
So many lonely people, not enough time
Let's get lost, see what we might find.
Verse 2
BS:
Hold up...slow down
Once more, then I gotcha
I don't listen welllllll
My thoughts are helicopter
Blades cutting through your hot air
It's not like I don't care
Just between the static and the buzz between my ears
It all fades to a clear, blue sunny day
Hello what's up all good? ok - word - i'm on my way
It's normal to sache, past the passe in passing
ques que ce? que pasa? what was it that you were asking?
I blinked and lost your words
Eyes linked, thoughts unheard
Our heads nod yes but neither party's been reassured.
There's no receipt of communication without impolite implications
and we both care enough to stay complacent (word)
Yo I gotta jet - damn shame but I''m runnng late,
Exit stage-left with a smile and a handshake.
Walked away like "Hit me up if you're back in my hood"
Thinking then I could tell you if it's really all good
Chorus (AR)
So many lonely people, not enough time
Let's discover one another one line at a time.
So many lonely people, not enough time
Let's get lost, see what we might find.
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3. |
My House
03:54
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Verse 1
BS:
Hour after dark, 10pm on the mark
and it's frickin' cold out
Union Square Park, when's the cypher start?
Grey said 9 we said "No doubt"
AR:
Should've known better than you show up on time,
No reason to whine...more evening to rhyme
I am most inclined to remind y'all here
How hip-hop sounds when it's improvised
BS:
Speech on the fly with a gleam in his eye
Spittin' about anything within reach of his mind:
Mullets on short skirts, gold chains, ripped shirts
current controversy with the Catholic Church -
Whatever's in range is free game and creates
a verse no other moment could hope to contain
AR:
Proponent of ownin' the moment,
the only onus is on the shoulders of the bogus
I'm ridin' donuts around opponents!
BS:
WHOOO! Taggin' in, taggin' out!
AR:
People gathered round, time to really turn it out
BS:
3 cheers to commandeered ears and no peers here
to switch gears and drive away the crowd
AR:
No doubt, emcees with ease
I feel more at home than a set of draperies
With a slew of new things and a cool winter breeze
We're more welcome here than the birds and the bees
Chorus 1:
No roof over my head - this is (MY HOUSE)
Strangers walkin' around - this is (MY HOUSE)
Grey bricks beneath my kicks - this is (MY HOUSE)
Starvin' artists but we eat inside of (MY HOUSE)
Verse 2
AR:
Hop a downtown train, Brooklyn-bound
Exit the platform, follow the sound
Walk into a building that resembles
the city of Dresden – after being burned down.
BS:
Jungle juice next to DJ booths
laser lights, strobes, and projection rooms
Bum-buh-bum goes BOOM-BUH-BOOM
you can feel the bass shake foundation to roof
AR: Rattling rafters
BS: Chattering glass
AR: Crumbling plaster
BS: House of wax
AR: Dance floor packed
BS: from the front
AR: to the back, I need a drink
BS: Yo i second that!
AR:
DJ M-Tri rockin' proper
When a drunk girl trips, spills a cup of vodka
BS: Yo that Goose is cooked!
AR: So is the sound
BS: Crowd now rowdy mulling around
AR: If we're gonna do something it's gotta be now
BS: If we're gonna do something, it's gotta be loud
Let's hit the stage, give 'em more than static
AR: Throw your hands in the air?
BS: Classic!
AR+BS: Throw your hands in the air, and wave them like you just don't care
If you wish that girl didn't get so drunk everybody say "Oh yeaaah!"
Chorus 2
(BS & AR)
Your roof over my head? - this is (MY HOUSE)
People walkin' around - this is (MY HOUSE)
Concrete beneath my sneaks - this is (MY HOUSE)
Starvin' artist but we eat inside of (MY HOUSE)
Verse 3
AR: 5 blocks North
BS: $10 at the door
AR: No dough needed
BS: We're hear to perform
AR: The bouncer, could not care less
BS: Checks IDs
AR: Nods
BS: Point's left
AR:
Step inside, ready to jam
and spot more mean muggers than Homeboy Sand
BS: Stand by the bar, nowhere to post-up
"We rockin' tonight"
Bartender's like:
AR:
"So what?"
BS:
9 bucks for a whiskey soda?!
Fine, but when I sip mine, I only taste Cola!
AR:
5 later
BS:
Still sober
AR: the lights dim so we saunter over
the first cat rapped like a source mag centerfold
BS:
Really well dressed
AR: But the music wasn't memorable
BS: Next cat, lyrics but no flow
AR: Okay to read, but live...
BS: Oooh nooo
AR: Oh yes
BS: If I gotta sit through another set...
AR:: Ayo we're up next!
BS: Rush the stage, dap the DJ
AR: Start to rock without pause or delay
BS: Heads turn
AR: Moods change
BS: Mean-muggers now call for replay!
AR: Finish up on a Mic-L track
BS: Walk by the bar, free shots of Jack!
Chorus 3
Any where roof over head? - this is (MY HOUSE)
Anybody walkin' around? - this is (MY HOUSE)
Anywhere that I go? - this is (MY HOUSE)
Starvin' artists but we EAT inside of (THIS HOUSE)
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4. |
||||
Chorus:
(BS, AR, & Rabbi Darkside)
Wall Street and the banks fucked us when they had the chance,
So I say 'Fuck the economy, let's dance!'
Everybody steady sweatin' personal finance, but
Fuck the economy and let's all dance!
Wall Street and the banks fucked us when they had the chance,
So I say 'Fuck the economy, let's dance!'
Fuck the economy! Fuck the Economy! Fuck the economy!
Let's dance
Verse 1
BS:
When economic symbols crash, not a single's in your stash
All you can do is laugh 'til it starts to move your ass
and your body starts to dance, can't count on an advance but
I was never good at math anyway
Current currency's back-breaking inflated
and motherfuck the banks taking all of my paychecks
They're song and dance tries to dictate our savings
with words emptier than my monthly statements
But
Through song and dance, we make it through the payments
Funds not needed for fun, this is a reclamation
What I'm sayin' is we're taking the slave ship NOW
By brute force of entertainment
Ben Frankly, they don't care about us
So in God we - No - in WE we trust
Take that and generate some more interest
Fuck the economy! Can I get a witness???
Chorus
Verse 2
AR:
Are your savings in need of saving?
Is the amount in your checking account not checking out?
Check it out: one culprit was a lack of regulation,
So I'll gladly get my Warren G on and start regulatin'
Regulating what exactly, you ask?
Well, for starters what America has done with its cash
We gave a broke junkie a stash, with no questions asked,
And then honestly expected it back?
I'm lindy-hoppin' while the stocks are droppin',
Forfeiting stock options for some poppin' and lockin',
Cause why purchase no interest CDs,
when I could cop CDs from MCs that interest me?
FDIC...not a chance!
DITC for breakbeats makin' you dance,
And the only liquidation that I'm tryin' to see
Is sweat pouring out your pores profusely, you follow me?
Chorus
Verse 3
Rabbi Darkside:
Everybody grab a partner
No means No
Here’s the party starter
Dough see Dough
Got my dancing shoes on tapping on corporate memos
Capital gains get taxed stomping it like flamenco
Risks undetermined internal revenue serving
I'm doing the Pee Wee Herman while Disco Infernos burning
Blame it on the middle men
Punished is the little man
Just your average citizen stuck doing the chicken dance
I’m a rebel with nerve in the federal reserve
Stash my money in a mattress while your cheddar turns to dirt
I ain’t got no portfolio so maybe ain’t got shit to say
Maybe it’s supply demand but I think that it’s kid and play
Bank notes ain’t notarized bankers blowing conga lines
Filling up their shopping carts I organize electric slides
Lock em away
I’m in the stock exchange with nothing but pocket change
Fuck the economy!
Outro
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5. |
C.R.E.A.M.
03:14
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Intro
(Jimmy McMillan of the Rent 2 Damn High Party)
(AR) You look mighty tired, bags beneath your eyes
Love falling asleep, dread having to rise
Dollar Coffee has arrived with the needed kick start
A caffeine burst headed straight to your heart
(BS) Drip-drop, double shot,
right up out the coffee pot,
sugar in the raw for flavor
Steaming hot, sweet and dark,
winter, spring, summer, fall,
a la Cart or fresh from the bodega!
(AR) Forget Dunkin Donuts and the Starbucks chain,
Dollar Coffee tastes the same, can be bought with change
And though this city may change, cheap java is a staple
Drop an extra dollar cop a pastry or a bagel
(BS) Right about there's where the mean-mug fades,
Get ready, get set, start your day
Body stimulated, if your mind gets bored,
grab a pour of the other Colombian pure!
-----
Coffee Rules Everything Around Me,
Cream! Two sugars! Dollar dollar bill, y'all! (x4)
-----
(BS)
Can't slack on my coffee grind or my brain's plagued
by withdrawal, headaches, and I j-jitter in place
I chug cups of caffeine 'til my hands shake
cuz I only see my dreams when I'm wide awake (so)
Coffee stains my breath, coffee stains my clothes,
Coffee caffeinates and hyper-stimulates my flows
I read, I write, I listen
Morning, noon, and night a dollar gets me a cup of ambition
Bankers in pinstripes pay with crisp bills while bums cough-up nickels and dimes
Nowhere else can you find these two walks of life at the same place at the same time
NYC's IV'd to the dollar caffeine
moving to the beat of the drops' drip
Standing in line my mind drifts to my fix, eyes lava-lit,
a buck and some dap and I'm back to my java-script
-----
Coffee Rules Everything Around Me,
Cream! Two sugars! Dollar dollar bill, y'all! (x4)
-----
(AR)
New York City, city that never sleeps
Cause the nightlife is bumpin' and the coffee stays cheap
From the Upper Westside to the streets of Brighton beach
There's always fresh Dollar Coffee within reach (check it)
In every borough, Dollar Coffee is ubiquitous
Iconic blue cups picked out from great distances,
Only one liquid is held inside
A brew infused with those robust grinds
So when you're way too drunk? Dollar, Dollar Coffee!
When you need to wake up? Dollar, Dollar Coffee!
Test you might flunk? Dollar, Dollar Coffee!
Myth to debunk? Yup - Dollar Coffee!
BS is Cuban, he's cafe con leche
Albert's Irish, so pour that Jameson baby
Dollar Coffee, your favorite legal drug dealers
Caffeinated, educated, spotlight stealers
-----
Coffee Rules Everything Around Me,
Cream! Two sugars! Dollar dollar bill, y'all! (x4)
-----
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6. |
||||
Verse 1
AR:
Another late night, rolling into a
Slept-in morning and a deadline close in sight,
I've got t-minus 2 hours not just to write -
but polish and perfect so this piece is gramatically tight
Otherwise I might swap a cranky editor for angry creditor
And live an autentic but unpleasant bohemian life
Homelessness really bites...
Cell phone off and tossed in a desk drawer,
Herbal tea to keep me aware and nothing more,
Batteries removed from the remote and windows closed,
Surely productivity must be in store when...
Bridge 1
Bang, bang, bang! Who's knockin' at my door?
I already paid the rent and I'm the only tenant living on this floor...
Verse 2
AR:
A food delivery?
I didn't order anything so quite a mystery
But it's pulled pork smoked over hickory,
so I oblige in a simple act of chivalry now back to my artistry,
Ten sticky digits later...
a power-nap appeals to me more than an article for the local paper
I need a miracle, I'm gambling with my gainful employment
And cannot afford the wager.
Major crunch time, embrace the subject,
Get excited over the newly proposed city budget!
One hour? Rhymestein you can do this!
Wait...your stashed phone was on silent, right, stupid?
Bridge 2
Ring, ring, ring, who's blowin' up my phone?
If that's not news of an inheritance than please leave me the hell alone...
Verse 2
BS:
Work hard, play harder
3am just came home with somebody's daughter
It was as simple as some drinks and a cab ride
All goes well, this won't be our last night
Arm around her shoulder,
I'm leaning in to kiss her neck
About to peck when her phone beeps,
Which she checks,
Turns around and says we should order breakfast
Aight I'm with it long as I can get up in it when we finish
Things got hot and heavy,
I'd say more but legally my gentleman's resolve's gotta hold steady
I was an overready drunk and sober medley
Eyes fixed on the hips of Ms. Older Sexy
Bridge 3
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Who's knocking on my door?
Dude's there but the food's not
Hold up, wait...
"GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR!"
I don't wanna die like Tupac!
Verse 2
BS:
He points left,
With his handgun
Damn son I was on some different kinda Magnum 'ishhh
Stop to think and it hits,
Pretty Miss is the missing link
- Holy shit! -
Duffel bag, by the kitchen sink
and half my things are between me and this player in pink
Son!
I been set-up, that's what I get UGH!
Never thought using my powers for libido'd end up like this!
Fuck it I'm pissed
But I force my mouth shut and eyes reactionless.
I got renter's insurance and there's more fish in the sea
This'll be over 'fore you know it B, breathe
(when)
Bridge 4
BS:
WHOOP! WHOOP! WHOOP!
That's the sound of the police
And they're right outside of my house
Burglary reported by a man
On his delivery route
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7. |
||||
Verse 1
AR:
Relationships are a curious thing,
Like a big band dance who can't manage to swing
And the difficult thing is they're harder to grow,
Like orchids transported from tropics and dropped in the snow
We took it slow...friends first, affection second
Hand-crafted the needle then lowered it to the record
Over the years grew together and separate
Never separately, that's the key subtlety oft neglected
My art, you respect it, you're a writer yourself,
And all the books read and collected upon your shelf
Physically reflect a passion for language and words
So your criticism is genuine and keeps me at work.
A dreamer met a genius in a universe of simpletons,
Cemented to a concrete belief in superstition
And when he stopped to listen, she started to sing
My materialism is you...my want thing.
Chorus:
(AR:)
You're the kind of girl that fits in with my world (x3)
Verse 2
(Dru the Monster)
I give you love, i give you pleasure/
You a star, the one i treasure/
Its hard for me to measure/
How far i am from heaven/
With these feelings that i got for you/
Call a doctor to....pull the plug i would make my heart stop for you/
But would you do the same? Different story/
I started sensing a change, the cash didn't bore me/
I dont mind spending bread if you're in your glory/
But now i wonder if you ever really did adore me/
A gold diggers attraction grows quicker, in fact/
Ya nose bigger, thats a known fibbers reaction/
actually i know you're lying even tho i still hope you're trying/
See the coats you buyin'? I work my ass off/
You checkin price tags for a skirt to match?!
Please! I dont think so/
You ain't gettin' handouts, tryna live in my world?
You ain't gotta stand out/ it's a want thing.
Chorus
Verse 3
BS:
Second I saw you, knew we're getting married
Through the misunderstandings twisting happy with the angry
I love you - HATE you 'til I can't even stand me
Freebasing love attempting to avoid gravity
The royal 'We' never worked, still the pauper's spell-bound
Stare stuck on rose thorns in the old crown
Ripped off when coaster sprouted outta merry-go-round
Buttercup build me up, don't break me down
Depression daily, mania nightly
You caught dead middle of my mind cycling
Still you stood by me and my changes in psyche
'Til I slipped, lit a cigarette and you caught my lying
The asshole had the princess Ace Rock once fabled
but lost her when the ace up his sleeve fell on the table
Still, the worst storm clouds birth the brightest rainbows
That's why the other side of my bed stays cold 'cuz
Bridge
AR:
You're the kind of girl (x2)
Want thing (x2)
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8. |
||||
Verse 1
BS
We need 50cc's of adrenaline STAT!
Man on his back glued to the floor of his flat
Jimmy Hendrix acid tab sweating through his fitted cap,
Relapse rehashed through the flesh of a cracked back
When in Rome, act like a Roman
Hit it once and the effects were sewn-in
Wife phoned-in, paramedics flown in
He left Earth with his words, holding his cojones
Verse 2
Dyalekt
I've got a tendency for elegant ideas that crawl to the finish
When experts agree they wouldn't last a minute
Like Iron Mike on VH1 when he lost his riches
It's a contradiction (word to Robin Givens!)
Spill it all like BP when the relay starts
The wheels fall of and we skid and we make sparks
And maybe we ain't smart or careful or reverential
We're potent...'cause we make the most of potential
Chorus
Ihsan
Potency, chemical reaction leave you scratchin' your head
Potent the lyrics, but did you really catch what they said?
If you wanna buzz, it's gonna hit you and then
You'll need a lot more coffee just to get out of head
Verse 3:
brokeMC
No need to brag, your feedback will leave your cheeks slapped
It's hard to face like a free-balling teabag
Rollin' up strong while your weeds whack
We keep it dope, believe that (welcome to the relapse!)
Steepin' the deepest of secrets, to cook 'em and eat 'em
Sneak up on cretans to geek 'em
Don't stop believing, it's a journey to sink your teeth in
And if you're only so-so, then you better know that that's what you'll be reaping
Verse 4:
AR
Bunson burners boiling beakers filled with
mysterious mixtures, malodorous tinctures,
Herbal remedies whose recipes never reach the
populace like apocryphal scripture.
I postulate the apothecaries of the known world
were intoxicated when they first saw the fuller picture
The possibility afforded those whose distillations
and chemical combinations could cause fate's flower to whither...
Chorus:
Ihsan
Verse 3:
AR, BS, brokeMC, Dyalekt
It’s potent, the spokes of the wheel we roll with
It’s potent, the handfuls of clay we mold with
The solvent to cut the BS on the pulpit
Brimstone fire lit scripture left smoldering
Scalding, bold like the wolves that close in
The calling, transform energy to motion
I’m all-in, walkin to the centipede solstice
Buggin', wiggin' out til the spell gets broken
Frozen, staring at the ghost of the poem
Still underground, no wins for the molemen
Pavlonian Molotov, kerosene, soak it
The omens, the chosen, commotion, explosion
Quoted, when thoughts dreams and hopes are cogent
Spoken, sermons unnerving the theologians
Laboratory vials, the gun still smokin'
Alchemist, scorched earth re-birthed golden
Chorus:
Ihsan
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9. |
Nice Things
03:08
|
|||
Chorus:
BS: Damnit goddamnit AR!
AR: Damnit goddamnit BS!
BS & AR: This is why we can't have nice things! (x3)
This is why we can't have nice things!
Na-Na-Na-Na Nice Things!
Verse 1
BS:
You want the flat-screen, you want the new apartment
You could be saving money but you've mistaken your wallet
For a roll of Charmin, without thinking twice
Credit card swipe 'til your ass-set's wiped clean
I mean, dude, you can't freestyle a budget!
Savings are for saving, that means before you touch it
Last thing coming out your mouth should be "Fuck it"
But you blew a thousand duckets to brew beer in a bucket!
(AR: Shut up!)
I know this sounds like your Mama's rants
but if your Mama saw you try to go to work in those pajama pants
(Damn!) she'd slap the fear of God back into Dan and
You'd go from beer snob to preacher like your Dad!
Man,
You haven't worked out once in your life
How's that beer belly saving you from thieves in the night?
How you gonna protect that $800 bike you've used
Umm...like...I think twice?
Chorus
Verse 2
AR:
Bradshaw! You're about as fiscally responsible
As Wall Street investors without morals or legal obstacle
But at least they got dough, my dude
When you were broke, what did you do? Cop two new tattoos...
You've been rockin' those same dungarees
For so long it's a miracle they ain't burst at the seams,
Seems they've never even been near a washing machine,
Started off a light grey now they're dark blue jeans...
You love those black and milds
I can hear it in your heavy breathing!
You love drinking 'til you're cross-eyed,
What stranger will you try to fight this evening?
BS means Barely Sober,
Boisterously Shitfaced and the night ain't over,
I should go come earl-ay, but I'll end up behind bars
Spittin' bars with you 'til it's bright and early like...
Chorus
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||||
10. |
||||
Verse 1
BS:
Hanging from my very first sun and my very last moon
There's a pendulum swinging splitting my days in two:
Here and now,
Came and went
So I nickel-dime the knick of time until I'm all spent
'Til the top-half of my hour glass runs out of sand,
I'm catching minutes by the second like it's tick-tock sleight of hand
I'm funneling seconds to miles and son'ing sun dials
'Til Father Time turns around and calls me Dad
Time is relative
Cousin to memory
Governed by perceptions of cyclical melodies
You can save time, kill time, make time, waste time
have a great time -- all at the same time
But I make sure I'm maxin out my face time
If there's an after-life I'm sure there's a long wait in line
To clock back and cross the great divide
So I'm tasting every single moment taking my time
Chorus
Jelani the MC:
I move, you move keep it right on time
Could be two steps ahead but a second behind
I move
You move
Is time controlling you or you in control of your time? (2x)
Verse 2
Premrock:
We living in intervals, integrated with
Information the clock has indicated
That I am late for my interview
Fuck it I'm telling fate she can wait
Cause I'll be damn if I'm forced leave the table without me scraping my plate
We all quantatize minds in the eye of clock
Synchronizing our rhyme try to thicken divine plots
Now I'm Looking for my stitch in this time
Before mine stops
Cause it's all just a flick of the wrist to God's watch
For losing my visceral grip
And time stops
Like which one is the shepherd and which is the livestock
Sun groove to the metronome
Click. Now bow down to the almighty measuring stick
That goes tick tick
Welcome to the Terrordome bitch
Now move quick
Like keeping me sequentially drunk as truth shifts
But that noose doesn't fit, your confines don't define me
Watch how quick I slip, go ahead you can time me
Chorus
Verse 3
AR:
I close my eyes for a moment and an hour is gone,
Mesmerized by a playlist of favorite songs,
I close my eyes for an hour and it's only been a minute,
Bored behind belief in a meeting that won't finish.
I feel a pawn when dictated by external limits
and stuck doing the same routines.
Runnin' around, steady sweatin' my entrances,
when asked whether I'm stressed (who me?)
It's all relative really, perception is king
Strictly enforcing time is an efficiency thing
Human experience, inherently subjective
Is not subject to an alarm clock ring.
Years ago, dinosaurs died in tar-pits
This year? We're talking commercial starships
Can you feel the disconnect?
The enormity of change is poorly reflected by our intellect.
Chorus
|
||||
11. |
Doc Brown
02:48
|
|||
Verse 1
AR:
It's 2011, we're riding musty subway cars
I expected rocket cars folding into mason jars
What a disappointment...
Call the national academy of science and make me an appointment
Cause ya'll got some explain' to do
The child in me is frustrated with you
Unless I've just been given the truncated view
The promised future utopia never came true.
I lived in a dream, awoke and came to
In a fucked up world where it's easiest to blame you
And I don't need a floating city in the clouds
If there's a home for everybody I don't care what rock we're chained to...
I wanna live in a world where Hungary is not a way people go to sleep, just a country
So forget the Star Trek replicator,
the microwave's fine for my late-night munchies.
Chorus 1
BS & AR:
Verse 2
BS:
Son, where's my teleporter?
and the TiVo in my brain to keep my thoughts in order?
At the arcade the future only cost a quarter
Little me had no idea Contra guns were 'round the corner
Thought by 2011 we'd build cities in the clouds
Family vacay's literally blasting off
Instead food's filled with things we can't pronounce
While kids who can't afford to eat dream of being astronauts
I knew 'bout solar power when I left my T-Rex in the sandbox at age 9
Thinking later on we'll try to bring him back to life
But when we run out of fossils to burn, I'll wish more dinosaurs died
I'd rather be a comet by far
Shoot for the moon, and hope I hit a star
If I get there I'll text you a postcard
'Til then --- I got 5 on the next one
Chorus 2
BS & AR:
|
||||
12. |
||||
Verse 1
BS:
Faded stage high, long goodbyes
Bar tab open 'til closing time
Roll next door - Corona, lime
For the girl by my side the IPA's mine
After the party's the after party
After that things start to get foggy
Losing track of myself, I mean me
By that I mean Dave, by that I mean - B
It's a complex,
Superman vs. Clark Kent
Battle for Park Ave, park view, penthouse apartments
Cuz,
Home is where the heart is
Beg your pardon but I got nothing to do
Show's over and it's rained through my shoes
-- your place?
Aight, cool
Home is an address,
Mine ain't a place
BS lives in transit,
but my lease says Dave
Gotta-gotta go although I'd love to stay
I'm homeward bound, gotta get on my way
Chorus:
BS & Doloresdae:
Where you gonna go when the light's come on
and the crowd's gone home and you're all alone?
You can't stay here...
Where the lights get dim and the bass gets loud
Wylin' out, high off the crowd
You can't stay here
But you don't have to go home
You don't, you don't,
You don't have to go home
But you can't stay here...
Verse 2
AR:
Known to many by an alias,
To many others the title seems alien
Foreign, fake, trite, contrived
A laughable, passable, masterful lie
Like who in the world is Albert Rhymestein?
If it's just you rapping why draw the line?
Or maybe it's more than that...
Maybe that line is a border that you're scared to pass
Once you eliminate a pseudonym
There's no questioning whether that's you or him
Maybe I'm being melodramatic, but a penname
Makes it easy to remain so passive.
To brush it off as just another side of you
When really it's show what's inside of you
Excuses? Yeah I've tried a few
But why hide behind stories when I could just write a few?
It really ain't about a name
Cause a name doesn't make you
A name doesn't decide you
A name along it won't break you
I want to engage you off the stage
Eyes locked together in a genuine gaze
No self-indulgent marketing campaign
Artist and man, one in the same.
Chorus:
BS & Doloresdae
|
Dollar Coffee Brooklyn, New York
A double-shot of hip-hop for the soul. A freshly brewed pot of body-rocking goodness. As if orchestrated by the gods of rhyme, the meeting of Brooklyn transplants BS and Albert Rhymestein was indeed the work of fate. Rooted in a mutual love for hip-hop, they began collaborating together in early 2010. Talk of a short EP quickly grew into Dollar Coffee and the debut full-length album "Nice Things". ... more
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