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life (j dilla x proof revisit) - universeal lyrics

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(intro)
(ferris bueller)
yep. i said it before and i’ll say it again. life moves pretty fast. if you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it

(verse 1: universeal)
rewriting the storyline, no time for cameos
too much talent, no recognition, feel like dicaprio
leonardo da vinci, pic-sso and vincent van gogh
a mona lisa smile dressed in blue, she’s also psycho
piano beat’s the only way to go
breathing brand new life into this art form that’s dying real slow
oh you like k!lling tracks, where’s the logic in that?
hip-hop’s dying of disease, i’m just trying to bring it back
no glitz, no glamour, pr-ne to rage like bruce banner
got hecklers enamored by the manner in which i act
the fact of the matter is that you don’t matter
like anti-matter you’re my opposite, imagine how you’d rap
a gladiator with a lightsaber couldn’t force me to change, no darth vader
player-hater naysayers all over the place
my rhymes ate hannibal lecter’s face, it was an accident, inspector, i swear
got a flair for the dramatic, i’m an -ssonance addict
using unorthodox tactics to make my songs more climactic
practice makes perfect, i guess that’s true on the surface
but all i get with more practice, is more and more nervous
the fact to face is i’m a basket case who contemplates his place in a faceless, nameless world that constantly quickens the pace
brace yourself, like a kid with bad t–th
cause when your brain starts bursting at the seams, things aren’t what they seem
the st-tches of your sanity slip away in your dreams
unraveling as i’m travelling across different galaxies
been to too many dimensions to mention
so i’m not impressed by walt disney and his 3d movies
cold-hearted, foldin’ cards cause my poker face r-t-rded
i mean special, not mentally handicapped
keeping it fresh, call it saran wrap
food for thought is all i’ve got
plus a stomach tied in knots, b-tterflies won’t knock it off
what’s the story? what’s the plot?
who’s shooting? who gets shot?
who reaches, gets caught? sinking into the melting pot
to be or not to be, question asked, answer not received
dot, dot, dot, craziest writers block i ever fought
never thought i’d render ink blots into several, clever lines that get you higher than denver pot
i remember when people couldn’t stand it when i talked
now the first thing they say when i walk up is “yo, is the new song out or what?”
i don’t care, i don’t have friends, just people i send messages to again and again
i used to die a little bit inside when they didn’t reply, now i don’t cry
i just pick up a pen, write a page… or maybe ten
spend seven seconds throwing vocabular vegetables into a a blender and then drink the pretend smoothie and spit rhymes faster than an uzi
i’m a little choosy when it comes to using words, so excuse me if you lose me when i use verbs you’ve never heard
real beauty is on the inside is a phrase that i despise
cause people love to say it but it’s not something they live by
i apologize cause you’ll recognize that my songs contextualize humankind’s shortcomings
i’m not an optimistic guy
never mind why, i have my reasons, and here they are as follows
number one, people’s pride is a tough thing to swallow
number two, they like to wallow in false emotion
and number three, their hearts are hollow, their words saltier than the ocean
i don’t mean to cause a commotion but entertain this notion:
what if feelings like happy and sad were liquefied into potions
and every day you only got a set quant-ty
would you dish out your self pity and hostility a little more carefully?
would you treat people like you’d want to be treated?
would you jump off your high horse and come down to where we’re all seated?
i hope i haven’t impeded your ego, cause believe me i know
what it’s like to topple, like poker chips at a casino
sink down 20,000 leagues and play cards with captain nemo
visit atlantis and play underwater tennis under a dome
i have different goals than the average joe
so don’t confuse me with rappers that like to talk real slow
i’m a rhymin’ escapee from a violent high security facility
an insane asylum for word-slaughtering emcees
and ever since i broke out, i’ve been happily spreading my lunacy
amidst the cultured vultures known as human beings
am i seeing things? i must be hallucinating
because i’m debating whether or not the sky above me is shaking
eating gravy in the gravel pit of a graveyard, grating t–th
waiting for the grim reaper to come and reap
for god to press “delete”

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