Rainmen

i'll take 7 emcees, put 'em in a line,
shoot 'em, and sell their clothes to get my wisdom teeth pulled...

slug:
from here on out i'm grabbin' these rappers by their fates,
and throwin' their destinies out into that lake.
and as the earth shakes and as the snakes eat,
i found my birthplace on top of that break beat.
the beat breaks while i drink a red stripe to get my head right,
maybe put some life into this dead mic.
you fuckers got nerve, you lost between the mold and the mildew.
even if you spit that verse with bullets and tits, i wouldn't feel you.
this plant can't grow without the nurturing and nutrients,
so on i carry between the aryans and nubians.
holdin' a handful of that minnesota pork,
and if i ever blow up, i wanna fuck bjork.
let it rain, let it rain,
let the water run off of the brain.
let the drops hit my shoulders and leave permanent stains.
let one solo drip touch my heart to symbolize what it contains.
restrain these thoughts that stay locked in my darkside,
let the bumper hit the pavement, pull away and let the sparks fly.
let the children have reason to laugh,
instead of needing the craftways and passages to see their last days.

sole:
as far as me and wild animals are concerned, they're infantile.
bash, oblitteratin', rate life on the scale of chorus boy.
sing your diatribe to diabetics.
bet if me and you had to breathe the same oxygen, you'd choke,
and foam goes out your headphones.
and when the men in black scurry around jump on dicks saying,
"yo champ keep they heads noddin'," i keep heads still.
steal moments from opponents.
walking a fine fabric of time between nietzche and ice cube,
fuck all y'all, i never liked any of y'all in the first place.
punch face, dickhead, step on foot, burn the bridge.
rape, pillage, take money, i saw your scribbles in the back of your last release.
haha, funny, you bring your marbles, i'll bring mine.
when our egos and balls collide, we'll have some prewritten battle rhymes.
but no, everything is cool, cold, icy, happy, glamorous.
lets all drink zima and sing we are the world.
i am the world, when i'm in the whirlpool, where all these fools get killed.
kilogram to your ass and you're bitch made like a quilt.
yeah i can drop down and meander with neandrathals and jellyfish.
the revolutionary evolutionists, let me be the tooth fairy.
'cause when it comes down to bitin', i'll make damn sure everybody gets royalties,
and rock parliament beats instead of jel tracks.
shit, if i ever gave a fuck, i gave it away along time ago.
only time will tell in due time, we'll do time until it's overdue.
i'm the paramecium of parables, paragraphs, an emcee paradigm.
the world is my stage and stage presence(presents) for everyone.

chorus:
let it rain, let it rain.
let the gutter be the book you never wrote,
let the puddle be the drawbridge and moat.
all this is soaked in the deep depths of dynamics,
all we ask is two ears and a brain.

alias:
development lyricists presented for your listening pleasure.
quadruple phonetic spitters and two by ten measures.
profess my confession, i long for this profession.
presently adhere to this artform, made accessible for those who want to hear us.
interlock hands through a sound intake device for a filter,
constructing of percussion rhythm sections,
painstakingly built are infectious.
totally overwhelming to soul and body (it's the holy ghost),
making your physical structure appear quite shoddy.
disassembling, slowly pick apart your sound taste,
deconstructing, drawn to the floor caused by the wall you're forced to face.
and conclude that your thirst is quenched by deep puddles,
(ayo this shit is dope). but our conversation to you is subtle,
you gotta hit the rew when the fading commences.
your index extensions of your hand constantly tenses.
approximately every 5 minutes, you will repeat this motion.
over and over until your mind is convinced of this notion.
dynamics, i understand and i pledge allegiance to your music for advanced listeners.
covering many regions and as far as i'm concerned, this group is number one,
and who knew that using my brain could be so much fun.

dose one:
four, count them, one, two, three, seven...four.
pleasantly demented stock writers, a few fall short of the paper airplane.
decided to sit in grain, paint their faces and be leaves,
light green, turned upside down in the wind.
finally someone to clap for, this toxic hermit grins,
especially men over the globe. over and back is scratched,
fizzlin' a balmy sky, it's time, to fulfill in the cosmos,
milky way styles. say it like i mean it to ease my hot head,
and to where have you been my whole life?
come on guys, let's play the sap, shoot branch, off, shoot branch.
but, "hehehe," giggle the children,
who sigh, hands folded, pencils sharpened waiting patiently
for quality bird seed and really good camp counselors who know lots of big words.
once in awhile, it's fun to be smart and play with matches on the darkside of the hoooo!
cock, bang, young drummer get wicked, smother rock,
and the larger ones all get confused.
so with the prostitutes, dirt, platypuses, and grandparents, fine by me,
i'm a hydrogen molecule and proud of it.
let it rain, let it rain.

chorus:
let it rain, let it rain.
let the gutter be the book you never wrote,
let the puddle be the drawbridge and moat.
all this is soaked in the deep depths of dynamics,
all we ask is two ears and a planet.