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lirik lagu granderson – arches

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[verse 1: granderson]
listening in on the first most secret of the third world
keep economy on the influx and curl
write a mural, to yourself for re-ssural
might need it twice at once so make it plural
on the double, invade a persons bubble
until their personalities in rubble
curb stomp the rest, til they death, don’t make it subtle
engineer fear from the doors of a shuttle
don’t reb-ttal, or i might rebuke, refuse to take your statement
but i might reuse, the context for the re-asons
of a night reroot, rewire the p-ssion now you get the booth
cinema, begins the dilemma, of the moral complex
cuz the sin in ma
pa, and the rest of the pack indicated by the scars on my paws
claws retracted, civil war reenactment, the context was the worst for the fascist
sashes, mash is the only way i can look at cash straight
while i castrate castro for ghastly crimes against humanity on the casual
metal mold is malleable
days i’ve spent non tally-able
milly rocking, molly whooping, all you ever need is stalin
stalling out at the peak of the reach
preachers climax at the feet of the meek
eye upon at the back of his head cuz he seek
the one thing his religion frowns upon at this week
he reeks, of an honest immodesty
probing in on the morals of the next big prodigy
i’m your protégé, prototyping proctor
practically prioritizing the n-ggas on the saucer
flying anonymously, call me unidentified
till i get shot down cause my race, call me gentrified
genocide is a product of my genders mind
generations of gashing out the gills of guys
guillotine gutting the greatest, mucky waters grime
grouched till he’s out, till he’s tapped out the end of time
i’m in a redux, p-ssing through memories of my uncle’s nunchuck f-ckery
tuck inside a rosary
rosay and mustard seeds
will.i.am and “ima be”
off brand food stamp sorcery
cuz at this point i’d trade an arm for a leg
scratch that i really meant somebody’s harm for a keg
to drown out the roots of my inspiration
fuzzy dreams memories trapped in desperation
i’m reaching out to the outer rim kin
i need a saint, like that son of kim
criss-cross kris like “there’s no ruby in this”
satellite flight, switching from comcast to dish
dine fine wine, like i’m scientology’s fish
miss matched oil pills, it’s either a hit or a miss
oblivious, dubious because i’m ignoring ignorances bliss
ima kiss, away from the imperfections of the flawless few
linking up lincoln park, linkedin with a lawless lute
fiddle with riddle jams, folk lore with a high pitched flute
knuckle up or simmer down, trashy -ss goes down the chute
law and order 4th rerun, clashing clans inside kente’s coupe
subaru in midnight blue, snacking up all high in low fructose
or in slow motion, half y’all will read into the message others won’t get the notion
n-ggas still asking “yo what’s your prerogative?”
jogging through my summer home; erotic, raw thats summative
now now, don’t be tentative, pitch a tent, till tension gives
loves is like a empty mirror, 4 intersections, two way street
fine balancing, distressed damsel damaging my two right feet
cellophane wisp of a sudden broken window pane
greedy powerhouses, intentions good but who’s only tell is fame
reaching grabbing like one of the rigged clawed games
now i got my own oil rig, black gold is in my name
i petrol the p-ssing of petroleum
one day ima have a statue in memoriam
and it better say verbatim
“my feet are heavy, my heart is weak, my brain is fried, but my soul is never aching”
fold the peace, into a knot when your crease
at least, the rot stops when you’re blessed by a priest
lease, a larson forsees sight from the parsons
artisans and arches, make any n-gga finish where they started


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