Antiform by Plan: Be

Yo, you see that new video by don’tchaknow they say so-and-so’s leavin’ that show I hope they go primetime they say that movie’s supposed to be really good you’ll never guess what Joey said to me I never miss my Jeopardy do you think that she’s gained weight guess how many horses are under that hood do you think it’s too late for ice cream did you see her in that magazine to get married is my only dream lighten up I wish you would isn’t that really dirty though this is gettin’ really boring so I’ma go in the room with the T.V. glow

Vibin’ in the corner by myself

This is just a simple game of word compilation

My ability is massive like U.S. support of Israel

Yours? Like U.S. support of Haitians

I’m like the immigration of Asians -- my doctor, engineer,

And merchant class material smash your Central-American immigrant

Service class statements; my rhymes are the calm patience

Of first world nations in the face of third world suffering that doesn’t effect

First world economic situations -- I’m on the rise like the numbers of

African AIDS patients and world overpopulation

You’re an understatement, like “there’s a lack of minorities in U.S. congressional representation,”

Unjustified like Cuban economic sanctions,

Essentially nonexistent like the taxation of corporations,

Or mainstream-originated artistic innovation

My word placement defies convention like the United States

Defies U.N. resolutions on race relations, military

Occupation, and environmental legislation, while you’re conventional

Like arms races -- I see your style ‘round every corner like

Chemicals in the meals at fast food places; I’m unavoidable

Like the rat race is, you’re shallow like a T.V. watcher’s taste is,

Complacent like the average person’s political statements,

And limited like the rights of patients; fake

Like an acquaintance’s embraces, and never breaking even,

Like and insurance claimant’s case is

Greenery and skies blue with no pollution, imagine

Getting along with life and breaking living habits

Of killing insects instinctively instruments of killing fields

Nuclear creation was created to kill masses for better oil deals

My realm is covered with North Koreans starving to death

And the hands of US are covered in babies’ blood to the last breath

I go to a theatre and see a theatrical re-mastering of Pearl Harbor

The sequel is Hiroshima where women and children can’t barter

For their lives against US, the ultimate fire-starter, ultimate liar

Ultimate dollar being sought via human death; I’m larger than you are, sir

I’m playing the ultimate game of Risk

Over capitalistic greed but don’t perceive the consequence

‘Cause five percent own 90 percent of all that’s ownable

On a feeble planet inhabited by US my reap is sewable

Chop down the last tree that is green

And convince you it’s a peacekeeping mission based on need

Hey, what are you doin’ later tonight, you goin’ out or goin’ to a movie man that last one really moved me it was a book I didn’t know that wasn’t that newest video phat don’t you love that new commercial what do you mean us being bombed for once would be a kind of role reversal will you turn it back to Mtv for me ok well what about BET what do you mean they’re all the same evidently you’ve got no sight of course we’re right, they’re all fanatics I heard that Dwight’s a dope fiend addict it’s really a shame, those homeless people just buy booze when you give them change I try to refrain from talking behind backs but did you see what she was wearing what do you mean all those sitcoms are the same Noriega Osama Bin Laden Saddam Hussein Bill Clinton Peter Jennings that Colin Powell sure has some brains don’t he I just voted for the guy I thought I’d like to most get to know me there’s a sale down at the mall I didn’t know you were cool until television showed me and it’s really a shame and terrible that he didn’t win that Tony or Emmy, Oscar, Grammy, will you never understand me?

So much pain, am I insane there’s nothing more to gain, I’m livin’

In shame of a stained life I made; my veins

Inflame with the pain that I can’t sustain;

*** and I remain a reckless hurricane, cryin’

In the corner by myself, with no one else

But me; I see a light at the end, but there’s no hope

For me; I call my momma, is that all there is

For me, what was I meant to be, please tell me

She said son, get a job, buy a car

And a house; find a wife, have some kids, try to make

A new life; it ain’t right, the way you live it’s time to give your

Life to God and be a man, He’s got a plan, He wants to work

Through you; I explain, my ways are inhumane, the demons

I blame; can’t hold ‘em back, can’t keep the evil contained

My eyes are bloodshot, red, and strained, sweat flowin’ like rain

I pull the trigger back and aim, ‘bout to blow out my brain

A, yo, Johann Sebastian, I'm knockin’ your door

And askin’ if I can rock with Black Thought impart hip-hop and

Art fashion; matter fact it'd start with the happenin'

Of clappin' in the back with Biz Mark laughin,’ while I'm

Mappin' the track with big, smart, and sharp rappin’; that’s

When you start blastin' the chords, mashin' the keys of the organ-heart

With passion and force; imagine the course, of course

You’re massive according to passages from lords of masses; applause from classes,

From poor to those with loads of massive caches of

Cash and flashes; “music surpasses views” you mastered;

To prove to last you must use an act with a rising action that surpasses

Astronomical passages and packages what magic is, and outlasts the bouts

Without accidents

Hey, yo, Tchaikovsky, I’m chillin’ with Biz Markie

I asked him if he’d spark me with a beat so, yo

What? Nah, he’s the cat, the one with the boogers and the vapors

The one who laced us with those “Just a Friend” capers

Tchaikovsky, you down? You gonna be in town?

Oh, you’ll be in Vienna for a week layin’ sounds

For the crown? That’s kinda old school man,

I got the mic in the hand; check the concept of the jam

We got The Human Beat Box, a part from Black Thought

Here’s the clincher: we might get Bach

You wanna rock? Cool -- we’ll take it back to old school

And rule and mix it up with classical

A Yo bust this: back in the day we used to bust it

Busted it so much when we'd bust you bust disgusted

Plus because we discussed with busts you hushed it

It frustuated; you musta hated as much busts we stated

We played it out, but bust what the bust’s all about

Bust in each in every sentence, every word, without a doubt

Every second the sound was bustin’ in and all around

We busted when it's profound, we busted just to confound

We busted just to surround this and that and every noun

Bustin' in town we busted it down, in bustin’ we found

That we can bust a bust in any conversation

Why you sit not bustin'? Bust this, and just bust the hatin'

We busted in the early mornin’ and the night

We busted bustas till the bustas bustin’ felt right

We busted for a couple seconds to a freakin’ hour

I busted fifty busts when I was bustin’ in the shower

When I was bustin' here, my boys were bustin' there

I busted several hundred busts within my underwear

I busted way more busts than the average buster would

But if you bust like we bust then you bust and bust it good.

We busted in and busted out like your busted *** rhymes

Bust back, yo, trust that; I'm havin' a flashback

And even turnin' back from my attack I bust off shots

Normal and ab; I bust it when I get it

I bust it like I'm too pretended; yo, I don't understand

That, but I'm thinner than I used to be

Like, I'm still half of the man that I once was, and I can't see

Front you, and bust you, so you can bust some later

Across the landscape with my busted mule for acres

Why? bust all the time 'cuz bust or rather

Rise to the occassion with the mislead bust to symbolize

My i's are crossed and t's are dotted for price

My wheels are busted on my wagon not once, but twice

I still bust my sentence structure, busted fragment grenades

Back on the point: I'm not gettin' paid

47.9 million pieces king's men

Can't put my busted ass style back together again

Now I just left the studio and things are lookin’ groovy

So I *** and spark a light proceed to do it

And I look for the keys in my bluejeans -- they’re not in the pocket

But I think I lost it, or, I musta dropped it

And, uh, what should I do but call a few of my boys from

The Midnight :30 crew, to come over and *** and sip

On some brew; and so would you, ***

Alone, or sit by the phone when nobody’s callin’

Your home, boy you want a tour of my bag of joy? Ain’t no thing,

Brotha -- *** for my boy Leroy’s own

Mother; so come on down ***

Of this ‘cuz right now I got the touch like I was Rodimus

Prime example of a ***, misleaded young

*** ‘cuz I mistreat it and fiend it and take my *** home

To bed; ‘cuz if the drag is long, I’m ***

My lungs are black and scarred and I look like a retard

Things are lookin’ right

I come from lands of fat farmers, cattle, pick-ups and trees

Ain’t never nuthin’ to do that ain’t been done since last week

But *** -- it’s what I do when I do it

I’d rather do what I did as a kid, but, ah, screw it

Knew it wouldn’t last forever and now I’m bored out

My mind, so I rhyme; ***

target markets that’s open all night

And gets *** (man, you know that’s not right)

Alright, it’s me and crew, it’s just Skooch and the two

Freakies what we wishin’ for and nothin’s what we do

So pop in Tucker and Cube; we end up watchin’ the tube

And parlayin’, sittin’, sayin’ what we’re wantin’ to do

Then yo, it looks up, ‘cuz some freakies show up

Thought this night was lookin’ whack, but now it’s blowin’ up

*** for the cuties with the curvage

***, like my DJ, got the courage

Yo, Gottapoop, the inventor, go grab that ***

***

It’s got a mad fat chamber, so no longer be in danger

Of the ashes that give scratches to the lungs that give me anger

Ain’t no stranger ***

Skooch, the danger rearranger

Ay yo, *** just as I’m getting’ the mic

Spur of the moment group performance is the *** they like

Our complimentary styles lead to jockin’ and smiles

Yo Gottapoop, me and this freakie, we’s ‘bout to be out

We’ll be back in awhile, though; yo, that’s what I need

No need to plead; ***, gonna push up with speed

As I proceed to undress her I feel the need to caress her

While I’m ***

It seems like forever; yo, we be doin’ whatever –

The whole crib’s rockin’ -- *** is righter than ever

Yo, It’s amazing

How these “Please accept me so I can define

Myself” types employ systematic, destroy,

Destructive device movement tactics to match it --

Any whack ***; unconsciously I can map it,

Track it, due to their follow the petty pop formula

Like a moth to flame movement, nothin’ to it, non-cerebral

Flash ***; simplistic, but when they camouflage

With the intention of an invasion, that’s when my amazing strength

Is brought to bear; not grazing, square, landing in the face

Of the would-be invader; I’m an outsider like Nader,

Swinging swords like Vader, usin’ a pen and paper

To painfully pick and scrape your tomb -- your illusion,

Non-substantive mind-state petty attempt to belong cultural room

And in your doom find salvation

And awaken; and help to fight

Against this invasion: the underground infiltration

My neurological inhabits technological

Deficiencies, especially when I see a whack emcee

Tryin’ to rip like he mastered the craft; infiltrator,

Transparent like the equator; play the game

For show like A.C. Slater; I eat you candy coated cats

Either now or later; I’m a hater when it come

To whack rhyme sayers, wanna-be players, non-

Cognitive debaters; I get biz when I mark

These cats and shoot my vapors -- they talkin’ ‘bout they cars,

Then we roll ‘em up like papers; my greatest caper

The revolution won’t be televised; we got our watches

Synchronized; wait until we see the whites of eyes

And then we blastin’, conscience reachin’ out to masses

Mission accomplishment after years of plannin’

Broke the cycle of mind programmin’, tired

Of cats who just be ramblin’; my people finally understandin’

Infiltration

I feel the footsteps in the darkness, but I can’t see the infiltraitors

Heartless, are they? Yep, and I can smell ‘em

Senses over wisdom I can hear ‘em tellin’

Discrete secrets my deja-vu seeks ‘em out

But I doubt truth can reach ‘em; still I slide through pyramids

Where tombs reside; but not In Egypt, but through

The evil eye; not the third eye, ‘cause on that I rely

To guide me through the darkest closets where I reside

It’s known to be in my home, deep into

The zone causin’ mischief, hate; the great await known

Not by many; zoned residential if any -- it’s not

Commercial, hesitant to come against me so my roof over dwelling

Protects my canopy; yo, its tilted at the

Angle to very slippery for the rain, snow

Wind and infiltraitors who grapple up the side

To mentally rape you; wait, I think I feel ‘em comin’

Staggerin’ through their drunken state

Oh, the tangled webs we weave, when we practice to deceive

Let’s take a stand

Like concession against all forms of deception

Which leads to oppression and leaves a lasting impression;

Now there’s only room for correction; medication

For progression -- there’s only truth in this session

My suggestion is to gain possession of truth

For your protection, since it’s disguised as a blessin’

To threaten all sections in which the fake dominate --

They simulate, instigate, and go all out to infiltrate

Symbiotic illustrate to accommodate

King plus Skooch to put knowledge to use

We demolish your groups of flukes and rebuke

The untruth; knowledge stems from the root

It should be understood to be a real war

And it’s not a new war, it’s an old war

You haven’t heard some of the things that goes on

‘Cuz you always hide behind people hidin’ behind the people that’s hidin’

Infiltration

The evil demonstration of the placement of complacence --

A light in the basement adding flowers and vases

Amongst dirty faces, tight spaces; don’t fit -- watch how I erase it

This thing is like a war of maintenance

Fightin’ for survival against rivals with money on their faces

It ain’t about races, east, west, clan, or click; it’s culture;

It’s wisdom; it’s how I’m livin’; and they erasin’ it; quit

Coming to me with your mainstream glitz fake scene pipe dream

Pseudo-social construct mentality, Mtv reality

I get enough of that *** in my eyes without you whack guys and your lies

Comin’ by infiltratin’ my mind like devious spies; why?

I understand that your identity is weak enough that you must act

Tough; I understand that your maturity is not enough

I understand that your vocabulary is based on marketing scheme

Big business product record company corporate material

Imagery, but keep that *** away from me

So is there anything else I can think of saying to you? I can think of saying all the bad things to you, ‘cuz you always hide behind people hidin’ behind the people that’s hidin’. And when find yourself hidin’ in a circle and everybody’s hidin’, and then you say “well, what you all hidin’ from?” – they’re hidin’ from themselves, they’re hidin’ from what they think of themselves, they’re hiding from the truth. You’re hiding from you – sneak, snake, slimy *** animal, be yourself. Be yourself. Quit play-actin’ that good guy ***with me. Dig what I’m sayin’?

I crush bots with a swat, a shot; I’m hot; smokin’

Dots; leave the spot slots, now watch a ***

Drop; props, kill a bot, *** wreck shop

Now flocks of Autobots see what Decepticons got

Forgot about the raw, kill you all *** robotic

Devil, rebel with no level; metal scatter, shatter jaws

With the claws, no pause or flaws; smokin’ ya’lls; optimals

Will fall with the wreckin’ ball size of my fist

A hit; I wonder can I miss my metamorphasis

A devastator, I cater more heat than’s on the equator

I’m a raider, check the data of your neighbor: throat sliced

With a saber, tore like paper; I’m an Autobot hater

No one greater; got this purple shade on my chest --

Better believe I’m the best; I’ll put you *** to rest;

Tempests of non-believers, I’m a backstabbin’ deceiver,

Cheater, liar weaver -- a real *** good guy eater

Buckin’ and dashin, duckin’ and blastin’

It happened fast, but we just not lastin’

The gates are crashed in -- they monster mashin’

All of these defenses that we have, how did they pass them?

No question askin’, just chaos and flashin’

Beams; it seems our dreams are dashed with a splash

When Decepticons attackin’ where Autobots live --

These hands of steel and this gun is all I got to give

Their defenses are crushed; as we sweep in, our wings scream

There’s mad explosions, erosion, laser beams

Look to the left, see a chest explode to pieces

I hit an Autobot’s chest, ha, now he knows my thesis

We fallin’ left and fallin’ right

Like our right and might might not see the light

Of tomorrow; no tomorrow, now the Autobots burn

Abandon all hope when this bad news I learn

If I could cry, no lie, I would when Prime died

When Prime died, all my circuits fried inside

The world sighed and turns tide when Prime died

Decepticon lies and pride and so Prime died

Amidst ashes, laser blasts, crashes, flashes,

Evil aftermath -- stir my wrath disaster

It’s past the past; just grab my blaster

Red haze is my sight; red rage is my master

These Autobots don’t know when they’re beat; it’s defeat

And delete, a complete elite of the fleet, I hear retreat

And deplete; they can’t compete against Decepticons; they come,

I drop the bombs -- I blast them into atoms

Splat ‘em; I wanna shred ‘em; head ‘em off ‘cuz I won’t let ‘em

Fall back from the attack – I’m on their back, I’m gonna get ‘em

Wet ‘em up ‘cuz I’m a killa -- drill a hole and take his soul

Better transform and roll before my wrath unfolds

I’m cut off from the mass, transform and break fast

Cut left, double back and attack but their jets

Are just too fast -- I don’t last; it’s acid

Pain in my side where I just got blasted

Energy flashin’; constantly blastin’

Explosive attacks force me back from the action

(It’s a shame these Autobots die so easy)

The city burns in the distance and all hope leaves me

I think how Wheeljack and Windcharger fell in the flames

Insane my mainframe’s never felt such pain

Remain trapped away from the city in flames

Relentlessly sought by Decepticon planes

And forced to run, hide, then run again

Can it be I’ll never see Arcee again?

My vision warps and bends – my major systems are failing

Here one comes, lasers blasting and black smoke

Trailing

He’s runnin’ I’m gunnin’ it’s fun and it’s somethin’ to summon

Somethin’ deadly and stunnin’ or somethin’ terrible and lunging

Plungin’ outta the dungeon phenomenon when I’m gunnin’

Shunnin’ all these Autobots from the top my fists are thumpin’

Jumpin’ outta the dark a spark, his head’s depart

You’re leader’s dead I said I put him to bed it wasn’t too hard

You’re scarred and charred so far see what you really are

A ***, trashed Autobot ain’t goin’ too far

Bleedin’ energon hidden behind a rock

Being stalked by this Decepticon talking

‘Bout Prime’s dead the other enemies fled

Just then, look around, spot the top of his head

Pull up my gun, body hurt, vision bent,

Hope the sight’s right, pull the trigger, and then…

Have y'all ever seen those videos with naked, big-booty girls

And the emcee be rhymin' and you be like, "yo, that joint is ill"

But chill, the rapper think he's slick, he can't rhyme a lick,

So he presents the naked chick to cover up his lack of skill

There's somethin' greater at stake than the state of hip-hop

I'm layin' fakers to waste and callin' out all their props

Particular emphasis on just one

Hey yo, two you know its true, boobies in your face, son

Three times you ain't really got to ask me if

Do I really like checkin' out the big booty ***?

It's like a wave as I rush myself, yo I touch

It's a must that I lust as I shake off all the dust

Five times, look alive, do my thing, take a ride

After that, yo it's splat on that napkin that I hide

So if you feenin' for release, no time to get it on

Why get the porno channel? Yo, rap video's always on

I turn on the T.V. and see Mister Butt Cheeks

Mrs. Big Boobs, and Mister G String, chillin' with Mrs. Cleavage

Mrs. Makeup, Mister Nipple and Miss Thong

And they all hangin' with my *** Unoriginal Song

There's Mrs. Singin' In The Chorus and Mister I Don't Give A What,

Gimme The Loot 'Cuz These Fools Will Buy Anything That Sucks

If We Can Just Get A Few You-Know-Who's To Show Their You-Know-Whats

And Turn This Imagery To An Ocean Of Baginas, Boobs, And Butts

Strippers And ***, And When Nuts Bust Around The World

When Young Boys All Take *** In Their Knucks

And Imagine *** Instead Of Thongs, And Guess What?

We'll Have Every Teenager In The World Lovin' Us!

I saw Mrs. Face With No Name and Miss Flash walk past

With Mrs. Disembodied *** and Miss Disembodied ***

Mister Gold Teeth and Chain was like, "Don't be a hater!!!

We all just the children of Lowest Common Denominator!"

There's women on the left, women on the right,

That I don't like, a yo, gimme the mic

I might get nice without dykes on bikes, or catfights,

Or lights, or sights that ignite pipes

Booties ripe, flash at night, doesn't hype what you bite

I write while you psyche, I fight the right to site

A girl you like on stage to hike shirts and skirts, it hurts

When their spikes work dirt in the works; your spurts,

Squirt bursts perks energy lurks; it's worst when

the first thing you do today's disperse flows of no

Love upon the soul; pressin', that's no question when

You're restin', wrestlin' with remote control

I turn you on at eight, seven central; like dark and Oriental

Looks: supplemental; Hair: yeah it's a rental

Dental paste with the plastic face, in case of replace

Or outbreak, and stomach ache; you better throw up that *** you just ate

You's a ***, faint side of stank; I wonder when

You last ate? Your weight, 88, cosmopolitan playmate

I compensate, though, when I date a featherweight

Radiate and elevate, generate and detonate,

Turn her over, ***, and regulate

Make no mistake that 69 percent is fake of her

*** now it's runnin' down her shirt

I hope she's got insurance 'cuz her *** don't work

I wow figures like pow, now rivers be flowin'

Out of my mouth and mountains shiver while my shouts knowin' the fountains

Give you knowledge of why my college is fly; tuition’s

Given for livin' decision; my system for wisdom

Vision up high; heat friction will lie; fission lies frozen for

Times untold until I'm bold to kill cold loads of steel molds

In minds; so who's so fine to line soothe with movin' moods

In time? Windin' down from climbin' round my sound gives mounds to those

Who find

Increase the gravity of my rhyme ‘till my pull

Build enough to slow down time; and rules, laws,

Of the physics involved caused to pause; the degree:

My verse expose all philosophical flaws

See, saw, to be seen, the same, I’ll explain:

Take the emphasis from out to in your mind frame --

Just like beauty’s in the eye, it’s all behold

Truth be told, I doubt that your doubt will hold

You doubt, but don’t doubt your doubt -- you ask “why?”

I ask why you ask, why you disguise and lie,

Confuse faith by renaming it “a priori”

In attempt to justify, but you’re confused by pride --

You think that knowledge means proof, that science means truth,

That reason gives you cause to think you know what to do;

But you only know what you know ‘cuz faith is the key

I grow, expose faith, according to me

Choose what to believe; no problem to me --

Only askin’ answer why it is you see what you see;

You believe in reason and doubt

But don’t doubt, and then you’ll know truth

Take a look at your reflection, what you perceive is based on what you believe is true

Faith is what you make it -- that’s the hardest *** since MC Ren

The first that deserves to be established is words

Not concerned with patterns preferred for matters absurd

It's badder to learn that your chatter is churned by

Combative, mad, sad, or battle terms; it's bad

If you turn away from the safest place is based in pads

Of concern; the submerged kernel of ferns and birds prefer

The thermals emerge from the supernal convergence of souls

Yearning for merging to behold the mold that controls the whole goal

Of growth in notes untold, confirming the Most High’s perfect

Forming of morning imploring the born into pouring the story of His

Glory upon the mourning; profuse snoring confounds, downs,

And drowns the sounds of profound, powerful imploring

A single bite gave me open laceration, viral infection, nerve damage, hemorrhage, and bruising

We blessed with free will so we choose to be ill

The second for discussion is the following string of symbolic

Representations of conceptions that if you trust enough or put enough

Faith in, you’ll more than find a way to turn your minuses into pluses,

Your fuss into trustin’ -- nothin’ but selfishness and lustin’

Is at the base of our baseness; Angels have terrible faces when facing

The faithless, and touch places not faced, or we’ve attempted to

Erase without the tool of a faith which is put in the right place --

A faith which is put in the right place; the right place

Doesn’t mean the correct area of bounded space; the veil between

You and grace is so thin that it’s fake, but you inflate

It for the sake of your comfort -- we create it like fate, mind-state, or hate

The mind quakes to contemplate the true nature of faith;

It’s nothing like zero, yet everything like sideways eight

It just somehow doesn’t feel right to feel old at twenty-four

Frustrated, disassociated from the world, sittin’, steamin’

At the visions of the ruinin’ of your dreams through the dissolution

Of youth’s illusions -- a gradual slide into conclusions

‘Cuz the jump is held back by what ultimately is realized

To be an idiotic holding onto hope -- reality crushes all

That deny insanity, and I’ve had one too many bad trips to book that

Trip, although at times I still wonder but without the former feeling,

So even the truth of true desperation is eroded into mere

Middle-class anxiety and the shallow, meaningless whimpers

Of an independent mind trapped in mediocrity by itself – hardly

A worthy subject for true artistic expression; however,

I am who I am made to be, so please excuse

Me if it takes me some time to transcend

I suck

“You suck”

This is the title of the only book I need for self help:

“One Hundred And One Ways To Destroy Yourself”

But lacking strength to attempt the attempt is the underminer --

I feel trapped in the design, even though I know the Lord’s not a designer,

But an artist; so possibly such beautifully stupid suffering

Is part of a much greater, more meaningful picture --

I certainly hope so, I just wanna be able to see it; my mind,

I just wanna be able to free it, for my soul’s

Sake; so please excuse me if I don’t return your ritualized greeting

And empty smile with the expected reaction -- I’ve got

No respect for the program, or the programmed;

And my vision reaches far beyond being content; the darkest,

Deepest gorge is the one between the potential and the story of how your life

Went

Subtract the latter from the former and ask yourself where the remainder went

There’s this *** named Dirk at work; the jerk

Jabbers jib ‘til I get berserk; with effeminate

Quips he flips and he flirts with the skirts --

Splurts words that irritate and invert; the tint

Of his nose? The color of dirt; a holler

Of his hurt at the slightest discomfort; hero:

Captain Kirk; favorite dessert: yogurt

Wet hair, fast walk, and a too-tight shirt

Dirk irks so I attempt to avert; he talks

About his new earring and how it didn’t hurt; up on

All the latest gossip, joins every concert of attempt

To reinvent what don’t matter and already works anyway;

He tells me ‘bout who is and who ain’t gay; away

I stray but he’s always like “Hey! How ya doin’

Today?” I think “Great, go away” but “Fine,

Dork, I mean, Dirk” is what I say

Yay

Hit him in the ***

Stick him in a backpack

Kick him in his ***

Smack him where his ***

Slap him like a slapjack

Push him ‘till he’s off track

Burn him ‘till he’s pitch black

Punch him ‘cuz it’s payback

Play him like a soundtrack

Poison him with sumac

Beat him ‘til he’s bushwhacked

Treat him like he smoke crack

Ship him on an Amtrak

Trip him ‘til he flashback

Slam him like a hatchback

Push him in a haystack

It doesn't matter

What you think or care to do; haven't you figured out

Now this is how its goin’ down or through? My way or the highway

Or the bye-way if you think you’re proof -- you dare to wear

My pants, the pair, the chair is where your teared in twos; your hair’s

Prepared for my pulls; you thinkin' there's some reason for

Discussion? Your wage is just my tip -- you keep it zipped or both

Your lips are gettin’ bust in; "You’re the man" is only heard

By me; you thinkin' that you’re no slave that's given pay,

A place to stay, with meager salary? S is for the stress

Your best’s contendin'; L is for the loot that you’re lended.

A's the grade you’re given for behavior that sends

The message that you’re ready-made for labor, V is for the value

Of the paper; E’s for everything you’re given to

Be simply nothin', or maybe what you’re earnin’ to be something;

False assumption -- It really doesn't matter 'cause it’s just the pattern

Of consumption: to give and take just what you’re wantin'

Prick him with a thumbtack

Hang him from a tie rack

Jab him with a coat rack

Stuff him down the wet stack

Burn him with a fry rack

Smack him like a wise crack

Tie him to the train track

Crush him with a Cadillac

Choke him with a Tic Tac

Scare him like a heart attack

Zip him in the backpack

Slice him with a weed wack

Hunt him like a wolf pack

Pound him ‘till his bones crack

Paint him blue and lilac

Pelt him with a hackisack

Strand him in the Outback

Strap him to the luggage rack

Gag him with a Big Mac

Blind him with a cataract

Knock him with a knick-knack

Bite him like a Count Drac

Hit him like a fullback

Work him like a field yak

Cash

Cars

Clothes

Hoes

I don’t understand it, do you?

I’m about to get dressed up and go bling bling,

And sell hopelessness to an entire culture of human

Beings -- my nation, my family, to an entire genre:

Puppet master, if you’re up there, I don’t mind ya

Cash, cars, clothes, and hoes; cash, cars, clothes,

And hoes – there’s four strings labeled cash, cars, clothes,

And hoes, but these strings I don’t notice anymore

I see my arms moving, but I don’t know what for

I used to be able to recognize the strings connected to

My wrist, but now I see my rolee plus the money clenched

Within my fist; I bob my knot to the beat like a child

With Downs Syndrome, sitting in the corner of

Whatever *** room; man, I don’t play the strings

‘Cause they play me; my mind is malnutritioned,

Manipulated, and not free, but its all okay

‘Cause I gots cash, cars, clothes, and hoes; it’s a lot

Easier following in a single row

Of lemmings injected with testosterone

Yellin’ “cash cars clothes and hoes” to the ocean

This little jiggy went to the show

This little jiggy stayed home

This little jiggy had cash cars clothes

And hoes while that little jiggy had none

And the other little jiggy got blinders

To remind her to not look around

And yet I follow right behind her -- I wouldn’t want to get lost

From the rest of the pack; cash, cars, clothes, and hoes

The way that I react

I’m violent like sudden displacement; get all

Up in your face treatment; erase taste is the ultimate intention of my heartfelt

Message attempt, so repent through the acceptance of the same

And the realization of the power of labels may readjust your mind frame

To a position of greater awareness of the nature of control

That’s on our minds -- the design is ultimately not a description

Of the genre, but an assignment of traits and limitation of potential

It’s eventually learned that before music was bought and sold there were

No labels; they’re false as a fable -- check my rhyme

If you’re able: The division of music into named types, i.e.

Rap, pop, country, R&B, or soul is an example of corporate control

To increase sales by creating easy consumer access

The idea is that you know exactly what you get before

You buy it; but I try to reverse it because this sales device puts

Art in a vice by making it necessary for music to fit in a particular

Description, or somehow it doesn’t fit when a work sounds different

From a so-called sound which is defined by a name which was unnecessarily

Invented with the aim of corporate profit

Stop it. I love hip-hop but will not

Be held down by it just so you’ll buy it

What’s wrong, what’s wrong, what’s wrong with this world?

I don’t understand it, do you?

Hey, that was pretty good

Well don’t stop now

Program loaded and ready

Yeah, there’s a lotta bad ism’s floatin’ around in this world, but one of the worst is commercialism – “make a buck, make a buck” – even in Brooklyn it’s the same: don’t care what Christmas stands for, just “make a buck, make a buck…”

I do not think you realize the gravity of your situation

I’m about to get dressed up and go bling-bling

Cool, I broke his brain

We’re all monkeys

It be like: I don’t love you hoes, I’m out the doe

The following program is intended for mature audiences

I know for sure I can do better than that

Uh-oh, here comes trouble

This is a place for crazy people. I’m not crazy.

We don’t use that term, “crazy,” Mr. Cole.

Well, you’ve got some real nuts here…

I have just created something totally illogical

Space camp; take ramp; pay

Stamp; my style’s on ya, yo, it stays amp

Blowin’ up like a bomb -- know its on,

Yo, it’s strong; yo, it’s gone long time is tickin’

And songs is flippin' and rhmyes is stickin’ and minds

Are stricken; find smitten lines of kittens, dimes I'm flippin’

And signs I'm fixin’; spline splittin', my kind’s liftin’,

The high's hittin’, and the highs gettin’ spread; go on,

Listen and glisten while my crime’s missions to climb fissions

And grind dictions; I slide friction, buy riches,

Send hitches to side dishes, and ride vicious;

My line kicks as my rhyme fixes to the pictures and shine

Scriptures; I pound pitches and drown in pitchers; liquor

Gets sicker than the figure that begins to quiz ya; give

The biz to lift the crib to listna's headquarters.

One day I was in orbit; talkin’ off the wall

***, thinkin’ ‘bout your mind, how many times I fooled

It and ruled it to be simple, straight lines; easy mathematical

Signs seemed to be blinded by the wise

So let me emphasize, space camp is where I lamp

In a trance -- if you wanna dance, we’ll take it to the mic

Stand, and any man who thinks he can battle me:

If you blink then you lose me, then never will you prove

Me to be false, I talk fast when the blast

Off is passed -- three, two, one, contact;

And then I breathe fast, furious, and foremost,

Facts that I discover when I’m chillin’ undercover;

Stop the search party ‘cuz you’ll never find

Another; whether warrior or lover, there is no other;

So I smother opposition from the throne with the within my system

Of the enigmatic, rawdadic acrobatic rhyme

Addict; addicted to the fire, free fallin’ failure --

Burnin’ up a plant, then I fly to my space camp

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