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man_at_the_wall - neo huxtable lyrics

just a man with ancestral weapons
schematics. superior tech sketches
mass casualties teach the best lessons
record my findings, on to the next dimension
the factors against us too threatening to mention
a global game show with depressing contestants
the story unfolds with incredible succession
my findings? critical. mind state? cynical
let’s keep it straightforward. history’s cyclical
from this vantage point proportions are biblical
what’s worse is the gods ain’t mythical
you saw lebron james’ tattoo didn’t you?
i got a hunger for what they ain’t got the stomach for
i’m at the wall between earth and the underworld
i’m in a solo ciph with dead relatives
so when i think that’s hive mind intelligence
the military finally admitted
the knowledge of extraterrestrial existence
but the roswell sh*t is still hidden
ay don’t go nowhere the spliff still hitting
curiosity k!lled the kitten
i land on my feet and limp to the next mission
what you thought it was and what it is is dead different
this level of pressure tends to leave your head splitting. i’m the

man at the wall.. it’s my sacrifice and i do what i love i don’t have to like it
close to the edge… like guillotines and my soul won’t shake when i gaze at the unseen
the man at the wall… i’m good at this and i stay sane even though it’s ludicrous
close to the edge… the edge of existence. ain’t nothing as deadly as wisdom
they wanna talk politics
standing on the wrong side of the apocalypse
my people slave for your chocolate chips
so if you take from my jar, imma pop your lip
i got a legion stationed in different countries
you taking life lessons from different monkeys
and if these parasites take something from me
i’ll cut off their resources, f*ck up their money
if anything ever happens to me, they caught me slipping…
it’s not because i had a disease
but my grudge is eternal they don’t just last until we’re dead
i see it all [ i got three eyes in the back of my head ]
moors are like reverse fugitives we’re after the fed
they engineered the great depression had you asking for bread
to sell you back your own sh*t unless you lacking the cred
we pick fruit from the tree where the passionate bled. i’m the

- neo huxtable lyrics

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