Escape Artist

Wrong. All wrong:

When I first got into magic It was an undrground phenomenon Now everybody's like "Pick a card, any card" If I shot my full load with the first hand I played I'd be a monkey in a box hangin with the David Blaines I'd be swimming with the sharks Smiles full of razorblades But I'm not I got out of that game, escape artist I talk til I'm red in my face with strained polyps I'll rock till I'm out of my range then raise octaves I play through the pain and remain conscious Refraining from commenting on the lame compliments And the petty criticisms from those who ain't accomplished Even one fifth of some of the shit I made progress with I'm leaving nay-sayers stumped like rainforests After years of pulling rabbit ears out my pants pockets I'm not revealing any tricks of the trade It's just there ain't no magic in the breakdown, baby:

In an effort to make them all see what I found in my life I decided to give em a look None of them give it a glimpse and I guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book Letters are falling apart but the sentences stand on their own and the wording is permanent Never been missed I've just been misworded and misinterpreted it's Funny how serving the sentence of solitary confinement Results in the death sentences filling my writing assignment I'm just wondering my time went, it pulled a disappearing act And every single assistant I ever had Got sawed in half

Cause they never paid attention, but I can't afford to laugh Cause I'm looking for my break and an autograph for my cast But I'm short on staff so all I ask is volunteers in the crowd Show a little bit of audience participation now:

When I say "HIP" You, you say "SHUT THE FUCK UP, WE AIN'T SAYING SHIT" And I respect it

Check it, in a flare for the dramatic exit A fashionable entrance, late to my own arrangement, oh The self-destructive things that I do for entertainment My folks gave me this art, your broken heart is my pallette While I was out honing my craft You was disowning your talent That's why you still live at home And I bought this house of my parents

I'm getting ahead of myself I see the hair on my back I'm on the road reading Kerouac It's poems vs. battle raps

I think to myself: "What's worth remembering? Verses defending the size of my manhood or confessional canned goods?"

In an effort to make them all see what I found in my life I decided to give em a look None of them give it a glimpse and I guess that I'm sitting in the middle of an unread book Letters are falling apart but the sentences stand on their own and the wording is permanent Never been missed I've just been misworded and misinterpreted it's Funny how serving the sentence of solitary confinement Results in the death sentences filling my writing assignment But none of this is gettin told in confidence I reckon I spin confidential records just to hold the listener's attention

I'm a veteran of spatial relationships Clip your wings to fit you in, headshrinking magician Shapeshifting reptillian turned body contortionist Orphanages started offering torches to abortion clinics I lost acquaintances, in a morgue of lady friends I genderbent the heavensent angellic devil boy This god's androgynous

I'm looking marvelous But looks can kill And they're unsure about my sexual orientation still They put me in a special kind of case That only breaks if You hit it with a bouquet of flowers and baby breath arrangements The vault is vacant And they're all looking for phone call blame I called my agent The moment that I caught the train I let him know that I'm goin' nowhere He's invited If he leaves tonight then he might just help me find it But this is my burden to bear Not his And I'm a psychic without a sidekick Holding the future hostage A loose cannon standing on the rooftop with A new respect and understanding of bartenders and locksmiths They call me daredevil But I'm not precise enough Unprofessional On an amature level I love my life too much

Escape Artist (x4) (Escape, escape)

Escape Artist I'm in two places at once Escape Artist But I ain't slept in months Escape Artist Just tryin' to get away But there ain't no magic in the breakdown baby

Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby No magic in the break Ain't no magic in the breakdown baby (x3 and continues as Sage speaks)

I think, and I may be wrong, that this is about Sage escaping from the boxes and labels he's put in. From the battle raps in his youth, to the introspective poseur label. He's always trying to break out and keep it real.

I'm pretty sure it's "And every single assistant I ever had got sawed in half", not "stored in half". It makes a lot more sense with the magician motif.

He's pretty much relating his career in rap to the life of a magician, with the sweet and sour of it all. "When I first got into magic it was an underground phenomenon Now everybody's like pick a card, any card" if you can decifer some of the lyrics throughout the song you can see his meaning changes. "Unprofessional On an amature level I love my life too much" might refer to him staying underground

No kidding; thanks for submitting the correct lyrics. I was looking at this song and going, "Wtf is that what Sage is really saying?" Although I agree with the others on how this song could be about Sage fighting through oppression to break through his shell and pursue his real dream: hip-hop, although I'm still left wondering on why he's comparing it to one of a magicians.

when I say hip you, you say shut the fuck up we ain't sayin' shit

haahaha funny shit