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My brain's an etch-a-sketch, shaken then it goes blank
Lines intersect in a net at a slow pace With no thanks cause no one listens
Only care if you know your written's and the flow is hittin
Lyrics lost in a labyrinth, never can you slay myth
Rap is in fact only known for its flagrance We lack patience, I could use a thousand words
Still you wouldn't get up go outside and see the clouds and birds
Maybe it sounds absurd, maybe you're scared of it
Maybe I should take a break from this and see a therapist
Sitting spending hours formulating rhymes and schemes
Constantly combining things until my mind it seems
Is consumed by blinding screams blocking out obligations
For lyrics, yeah, talk about ostentatious
Words, often laced with subtle messages Slip through crooked cracks of consciousness
in muddled vestiges I want the edge at this but all I've got's
the pen game Plus populations preach to poets that they've
been lame We all play like it's recess, until we regress
Making up words on the spot so we can think less
Huffy puffy then we heave chests, a neat mess Beat each other half to death to see who bleeds
best We sacrifice purpose purely just to sound
nice But without direction you know we sound like
clowns right?