lirik lagu apaivy - gene$i$
witness this
glitches in the simulation
litmus strip the imitation
icarus
skin~jobs fill the matrix
artificial stimulus
(get you high, get you high)
the soul at its genesis
(is this life?, is this life?)
genesis, i pen the script
relinquishing these fallacies
my embers lit, these short fuse is mad at me like a little blip in the program
will show them who the masters be, ughn
who the masters be (who they be?)
who the masters be, ughn
genеsis, genesis, genеsis
i can feel the essence of this life as it grows process what these symptoms tend to slip into show
i awaken, the spark initiated
circulate on tapes, the messages relayed
the audio we play, replay the same thing
sample rate remaining
i can’t damage these connections to the cypher’s mainframe
my hand can’t manage to,release the k!ll switch
preservation of these ideas is somehow built in
i don’t know what lies beneath these layers we are peeling, but it’s masked as a civilian
i can’t pass passed it’s cap, the ceiling, despite how the blood is pumping this feeling, electric
johnny says, “more than eclectic”
i says—my message sends reverence, but my—mind vibes at the frequency
—ill~strating, “no one reaching me”
reaching me
i cease the decency, my piece gripped eastwood~ly, cheekily, c~ck and aim it feasibly at the consciousness, conjuring this scenery deceiving the masses
please,—ask, them, “who put holes, in the fabric?”
genesis, genesis, genesis
i can feel the essence of this life as it grows process what these symptoms tend to slip into show
witness this
glitches in
this simulation
plot holes in the matrix
what’s the narrative?
xeroxed the comparison
here lies the contrarian
the evidence of precedence heaven~sent sediments—settling elements, selling its m
—nebulous
graduate to the alien
alien
imagine it
detaching from the plane we’re in
enter fractal gradients
capture the math of the map, the axis that acts as the fabric masked as some factual iconography
well, “won’t put me in a box”, is my philosophy
it ain’t hard to tell, the architects can’t keep from watching me
how far it’s fetched, i believe in anything, its my intent to circumvent the events that sentence me to the abyss of content—with the way they shape this simulation
i don’t conform to expectation
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