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obligatory sold my soul to the devil song - isaac paris lyrics

obligatory sold my soul to the devil song lyrics
i’ve been doing this music thing for years
but still have yet to make money
but i’ve got this kooky business card
but the address sure is funny
it calls for an incantation, candles and pentagrams
“what kind of business is this?”
i think as i sacrifice my lamb
suddenly i am in waiting room
uninspired suckers reading ancient periodicals
“are we antic*p*ting doom? or what” i ask? laughter methodical
i’m finally buzzed in after waiting for eternity
a bearded goat*like man sits behind a brimstone desk
he shook his head while looking over my portfolio
i admit
it was a mess
“i can se you need my servicеs, monsieur
i stand behind my work and it won’t cost you an arm
or leg hе said and handed me the contract
then whistled an arcane tune
i perused it, genuflected, pretending i could read the runes
“i have a few questions, devil
where’s the forked road
where’s the moon?
and i must admit i am nervous about the surgery”
he laughed out loud, “we have upgraded
no old fashioned moonlight rendezvous
the procedure is painless, there’s no need for anxiety
first we open up your chest
and cut your soul in twain
and you shall have fat beats my friend, but not a complete soul
again”
some desire power, others technique in the sheets
me, i sold my soul to learn to program beats
though i couldn’t forgive myself for what that dastardly sin
i found myself digging in the waste bin
i again need to consult my accomplice
the beats were satisfying but they wouldn’t suffice
begrudgingly again, i put the candle on the floor
roll my eyes, heave a sigh ,”devil i require more!”
i was teleported in a manner defying science
we were in a burger joint, he the flipper i the client
devil i said quickly, you must think me quite a jerk
considering our history to bother you here at work
i do not mind at all, i was expecting you, you know
your the type who is hard to please, always expecting more
i love the beats you gave me they are fat , they are tight
i try to set lyrics to them and but do not come out right
i try to be an ill mc but daren’t even speak
my poetic muse is shriveled, my verbosity is weak
“back for seconds?” then he laughed his voice it made me tingle
“one order sick rhymes coming up”
i added, “extra pickle”
“this meal will satisfy you, i guarantee it will
but before you leave, there is of course, the issue of my bill
rhymes like these , they don’t come cheap
i trust you still possess? half a wilted jilted soul
inside your pounding chest?”
what have i done what have i done?
how could i be so greedy?
didn’t i read my goethe?
others request riches to share with their progeny: me i sold my sold to be a witty mc
if it doesn’t bring me prestige
and doesn’t make me rich
at least i have a story with
to entertain grandkids
“did you hear granpa’s story?”
“yeah, he is so full of pills
if he had sold his soul for beats and rhymes
you’d think they would have been ill”

- isaac paris lyrics

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