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lirik lagu embedded - the meaning of the sphere (dirty)

embedded ft. vast aire, breez evahflowin’, lodeck, and tes – “the meaning of the sphere”
[emcee(s): vast aire, breez evahflowin’, lodeck, and tes]
[producer(s): ese and hipsta]
[scratches: [?]]

[intro: vast aire]
yeah, yeah, yeah. that’s right, people. it’s going down right now. sword fire, lodeck, breez evahflowin’, vast aire, tes one. yo, yo

[verse 1: vast aire]
i keep
my eye on a b-tch like i play big brother (big brother)
it’s all gravy—prepared to get smothered
i’m tired of actors with sunk pants faking
wearing mustard green and [?], claiming jamaican. i got
to let it out (out) like an angry dog barking
the more ice on grills, the faster you keep walking
please. “i can’t” is not in the vocab
and it ain’t a fugees symbol. it’s my left jab

[verse 2: breez evahflowin’]
[?]
often flow like a mechanical dolphin
the scale of a whale inhaling a botanical garden
you p-ssing by a v-g-n-l margin, f-g. bag
your flag, capture and torture all your national guardsmen
i’m starving, dissolving my problems in beats, writing
the type of sh-t you shoot in the head that keep fighting
embedded genetically graphic with the craft. in
cl-ss, we spit at that, attack it with a p-ssion

[verse 3: lodeck]
this sh-t is super fly
more than eighth grade or handing out
parachutes, laying in them golden trading cards
for amateurs. these are the times so precise
that, when caligula fangs rise
fake blood spurts from the booth. i
budge and rewind the film on your suit
you go from deaf to mute

[verse 4: tes]
write the rhyme, make the whole world mine
who’s swellering at heat get outshined
one outline will scratch out, give ‘em blackouts
knock down the gold plaque t-tles of rap battles
punch for punch, quicker than most, sicker than most
but time is swinging with the knockout bell ringing
try to get up before the ref counts to ten
soon as they step back up, knock ‘em down again
i love the sight of blood, so when i punch, i punch. i get
your pulse up. don’t give chase or i will envelop your face
bent hands chase tape, knuckles to crack
knock you back off your heels. i’ma stretch your wheels, drop you flat
in my mind, mercy don’t exist. words
suggest heavy weight, grams switch to pound
mixed with light weight, footsteps moving faster than the
speed of sound

[verse 5: lodeck]
i drop
music that makes animals spark p-ssy hot
yelling super-sized, drunk in a sushi spot
make all the sound effects you want
heckler. swarm you, embedded like c-m-
-shots in a dim lit dorm, and, when you meet the dimwit
norm, you’ll understand i’m from the land of
flows, napoleon’s hands, on some sh-t, you
think? approach me slow, [?]

[verse 6: breez evahflowin’]
there’s no motherf-cking
doubt you ain’t fitting to spread and overcome any
dumb sh-t that get in your head. (so fresh) i’m the
first thing you smell when you get into bed, and your
heady is dead but already been fed
my game is gold. that’s why i get it (so fresh)
when you crack your sack, your eyes get redded
walk the streets with the traum, heat’s looking for bongs
spark and burn back and forth like bush and saddam

[verse 7: vast aire]
and if
you bleeding on the floor, it was my right stab
sh-t, i got a oxcutter that’ll cut straight through b-tter
and it don’t got to be hot
sh-t, i’ll hit you with harlem hands. you don’t got to get shot
i’m that cannibal n-gg- who makes xylophones
out of rib cages. don’t test my pages
and when we roll viking blunts with a little bit of moss
it’s a cold place, k!ller, a cold winter

[outro: samples with scratches by [?]] (x5)
“dealing in my cypher, i revolve around science” – sample from ghostface k!llah on raekwon ft. ghostface k!llah – “criminology”

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