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rapper's mor(t)ality - mat4yo lyrics

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some rappers say “imma do this to the game”
and i say when?
i’m equipped to critique with a chisel in my beak
’cause i’m not here to make any friends
some say “god gave me talent, but i’d rather not”
i know you wouldn’t give the wrong people talent, pop!
i don’t come to break bread
i’mma tear through the fabric of your existence! [/thread]

i said i meant all the sentimental
sentiments that i sent to mental
but when y’all rap on a static level
you lack a pulse like ya lent all lentils
and somehow that’s influential
the quintessential catch-all is
gargling texts you sent over instrumentals
and calling it a hit record

i see you texting on the road to a show
getting carpal tunnel in the car pool tunnel
pop that bottle and list every single thing on this shuttle in a garbled mumble
go for broke with their magnum opus
if michelangelo rose up and handed over a sacred sculpture blessed by the pope
then he wouldn’t be half as dope as those kids
and that’s a fact of show biz
trap the most kids with rap hypnosis
blinded and gyrating off the plank into the ocean
until the alb-m goes golden

the faster we hit repeat makes the madness seem like a natural thing
so scratch this beat
let’s make a disaster-piece
trap their feet on the count of three
1, 2, 3, go

(yeah!)
a rapper’s morality is a rapper’s sense of mortality
live fast, die young, that’s the motto
if ya gotta problem just crack a bottle. bravo

(yeah!)
a rapper’s morality is a rapper’s sense of mortality
’cause we’ll all be dead eventually right?
no sense of good or bad without an afterlife, yeah

(yeah!)
we’re machiavellian, with no consequence to be bothered with
if it comes off the top of head, and feels right in the end, then we got full confidence
they won’t call it quits when they’re living reckless
accepting the highway to h-ll is their penance
but rest -ssured when the stupid end us
i promise it won’t be stupendous. nope

we’re mixing a dropped call with a lot a gall and a black cauldron
half the world’s trying to build a home and the other half’s trying to pad their coffin

i’d form a garden of ant-toxins
but every harvest, an apple’s rotten
their dogma’s barkin’, my only option
is to watch as the mask falls off the poppet

to be loud is to be controversial
no wonder the ones that we hear are the worst of ’em
both sides are awful
both sides are awesome
both sides have a lot of problems

(yeah!)
we’re taught that our language is cruel
so words mean nothing and everything too
“let’s make a rap no with vowels.”
“or only vowels.”
“well that might offend those who have mouths.”

(ugh)-(yeah!)
so i hold my tongue like a claymore
doin’ less to say more when flames form
tick tick on the time bomb
why not take your bygones
and just say bye gone

(yeah!)
we’re objectifying everything in eyesight
our debt’s so high that it’s death defying
our groupies follow sipping brandywine
and lady you may be a ten but you’re asinine

(yeah!)
what’s the goal in this strange crowd
when every face is a haze cloud
and this game now is like tetris:
first you fit in, then you fade out
if i frame it like a child would
and explain it like an adult should
will it finally make sense and be complacent
with propaganda you paint as hatred?

(yeah!)
do you understand what i’m sayin?
(yeah!)
are you all robotic puppets they program to parent the popular vision their spitting and it’s in your code to obey them?
(yeah!)
are you a fan of the mayhem?
(yeah!)
are you scared of the mayhem?
(yeah!)
world peace, puppies, memes
can i get an amen if ya hate them?
(yeah!)
those with no communication sk!lls say communications k!ll
and take responsibility vacations still
this nation’s ill and artists sail our culture up or down the stream
i’ll be the rapper unafraid to name the cure: morality

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