This song seemingly tackles the methods of deception those who manipulate others use to get victims to follow their demands, as well as diverting attention away from important issues. They'll also use it as a means to convince people to hate or kill others by pretending acts of terrorism were committed by the enemy when the acts themselves were done by the masters of control to promote discrimination and hate. It also reinforces the idea that these manipulative forces operate in various locations, infiltrating everyday life without detection, and propagate any and everywhere.
In general, it highlights the danger of hidden agendas, manipulation, and distraction, serving as a critique of those who exploit chaos and confusion to control and gain power, depicting a cautionary tale against falling into their traps. It encourages us to question the narratives presented to us and remain vigilant against manipulation in various parts of society.
right off the bat...irregular's my first disclaimer...
second's...what once was rap's always changing...this frame of
reckon's the next basis for improvement...and that's about it...
unless stasis snatches movement to latch a crowded
skinner's box, chop...chop...there's ideas to have...
bigger shock...a lot stops...
must you be in a lab to feel part of advancement?
you real art love ain't a chance in
any faith's hell, they're not tempered the same...
if you can't tell the preaching is not why i came...
just throwing facts and figures out there...catch...
on give back...be bigger share...match
my mutually exclusive with your collectively exhaustive...
truthfully stupid is more a perspective. we'll
lost it in unison...unison...you've become
a work in process...a process...an odd test is process...ahh yes...
show me a prehensil tail is not your style homie...
the mental well...has no dial,
pressure gauge, favorite spot physiologically...
say has anybody got exact change for comrodery...
you...could it be you...could it be you...you...could it be...no,
then humble it is...every able axis grab an oar...go fumble with
ideas since prenatal practice...i'll step ashore...
just leave the maps, money, and chewing gum behind, peace.
you'll be back harmony is just that um...kind
of gross enduring a lonely open flame
enjoys less in the absence of fine company.
there's always room for one more where the ceiling's drip well
put and walls crawl with forethought...have a seat...
on what looks to be...is it a floor...wrong,
it's not just a beckoning light in a young blood's present
darkest future, but a culture...
for a darkest future we've bled culture...
acid vigor, human error and little white lies...
that's what mcs are made of...
bluntly, our pain and slab nativity scene's infested...
ugly's got it by the horns, so lovely
gets molested molding hardship from tragedy
splendid way of thanks giving we've
perfected dastardly to watch our backs disgusting practically
spared no expense at all in rapidly
rusting out our roots and groove potential forelorned...
nothing surprises me anyhow...rude of me...shucks,
you people seem nice, just look at those smiles...
and that's not the half of what it does for those
who thrive to its influence, nodding heads
as hard as hearts can stand.
pure prudence, lovers of lyric and construction
know this wonderland makes running a mill more bareable...
i.e. hype releases make weeks.
poor one's make laughts hysterical.
"music's my life, man" is some lame ass understatement of a force,
no clever contraption of words could ever contract
or conserve into some digestible scrap.
indespencable is rap's ties to you and eye's
wrack minds of the observant,
wash back and the lace air of cipher with
that comparable most wonderful thing on earth...
breeze of keen and opportunity...
astonished full of all but...daily tomfoolery's
been proven clinically...
a best time to...hmmm...let's see...train the pallet...jel,
please faze your galant composure through
my altered statement of why any censor's power's feeble...
we'll handle ours if you do your evil...
angles a longshot impossible and pisses off simple moms of drones
protecting their happy homes
from back rows at church...truth hurts...
come on now...slide me a seat in the senate and see how tolerance works...
i meant it's awful easy to condemn and never been attempted...
take unity for demonstration purposes...
so in the end, my extra-righteous tyraid services
only the colossal unjust of our juxtaposition...
and glorifies how deep blank runs...sickened...
that's a aprapo...since we are what we overcome...
on a rock where fruits of labor are sold...
although i do believe it's pronounced soul...
second's...what once was rap's always changing...this frame of
reckon's the next basis for improvement...and that's about it...
unless stasis snatches movement to latch a crowded
skinner's box, chop...chop...there's ideas to have...
bigger shock...a lot stops...
must you be in a lab to feel part of advancement?
you real art love ain't a chance in
any faith's hell, they're not tempered the same...
if you can't tell the preaching is not why i came...
just throwing facts and figures out there...catch...
on give back...be bigger share...match
my mutually exclusive with your collectively exhaustive...
truthfully stupid is more a perspective. we'll
lost it in unison...unison...you've become
a work in process...a process...an odd test is process...ahh yes...
show me a prehensil tail is not your style homie...
the mental well...has no dial,
pressure gauge, favorite spot physiologically...
say has anybody got exact change for comrodery...
you...could it be you...could it be you...you...could it be...no,
then humble it is...every able axis grab an oar...go fumble with
ideas since prenatal practice...i'll step ashore...
just leave the maps, money, and chewing gum behind, peace.
you'll be back harmony is just that um...kind
of gross enduring a lonely open flame
enjoys less in the absence of fine company.
there's always room for one more where the ceiling's drip well
put and walls crawl with forethought...have a seat...
on what looks to be...is it a floor...wrong,
it's not just a beckoning light in a young blood's present
darkest future, but a culture...
for a darkest future we've bled culture...
acid vigor, human error and little white lies...
that's what mcs are made of...
bluntly, our pain and slab nativity scene's infested...
ugly's got it by the horns, so lovely
gets molested molding hardship from tragedy
splendid way of thanks giving we've
perfected dastardly to watch our backs disgusting practically
spared no expense at all in rapidly
rusting out our roots and groove potential forelorned...
nothing surprises me anyhow...rude of me...shucks,
you people seem nice, just look at those smiles...
and that's not the half of what it does for those
who thrive to its influence, nodding heads
as hard as hearts can stand.
pure prudence, lovers of lyric and construction
know this wonderland makes running a mill more bareable...
i.e. hype releases make weeks.
poor one's make laughts hysterical.
"music's my life, man" is some lame ass understatement of a force,
no clever contraption of words could ever contract
or conserve into some digestible scrap.
indespencable is rap's ties to you and eye's
wrack minds of the observant,
wash back and the lace air of cipher with
that comparable most wonderful thing on earth...
breeze of keen and opportunity...
astonished full of all but...daily tomfoolery's
been proven clinically...
a best time to...hmmm...let's see...train the pallet...jel,
please faze your galant composure through
my altered statement of why any censor's power's feeble...
we'll handle ours if you do your evil...
angles a longshot impossible and pisses off simple moms of drones
protecting their happy homes
from back rows at church...truth hurts...
come on now...slide me a seat in the senate and see how tolerance works...
i meant it's awful easy to condemn and never been attempted...
take unity for demonstration purposes...
so in the end, my extra-righteous tyraid services
only the colossal unjust of our juxtaposition...
and glorifies how deep blank runs...sickened...
that's a aprapo...since we are what we overcome...
on a rock where fruits of labor are sold...
although i do believe it's pronounced soul...
Lyrics submitted by krTog1
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