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lirik lagu himalayan project - manchild

[rainman]
the new face of things, i’ve faced the winds
and never backed an inch, past the brink
first to step, last to blink
remind myself that i have to think
f-ck it, p-ss the drink
the mic, the track, take a sip and i might relax
or i might attack, and snipe from the stage from the front to back
to the bar and doorman who cards your -ss
to the cars that p-ss
my sound cuts through like shards of gl-ss
evolved like man from all fours to master the land
and i’ve taken it this far so i’m hard to p-ss
win, lose or draw, i paint a picture with the pen or the sword
still h-ll bent on ending the war through the use of acoustics, stupid
this is, more than music, and i choose to do it
cause if i don’t then i’m just gonna lose it

[chee malabar]
i’m america’s worst nightmare
i’m young, brown and look middle eastern, gyeah
got a sweatshop work ethic, to st-tch my experience
into the american fabric, mixed and matched with
loose threads from folks’ clothes off the middle p-ssage
to yarns spun into multicultural quilts by the colonial masters
i weave it together using strands of language
to patchwork the damage, and recapture the magic
tragic b-st-rd, seems my pens only moved by spirits of anguish
who vanished, deep inside pockets of panic
articulate their anger, strangle words in my head
till it chokes my thoughts and a new world is bled
nouveau american, son, i’m highly re-imagined
splashing snapshots of tirades, montage style in spike lee fashion
through panoramic rapping

[chorus] x 2
manchild lost in the wilderness that’s america
can’t hide once you in the eyes of hysteria
d-mn why they think you don’t represent america
manchild, smile and stare back at hysteria

[rainman]
i’m a hundred story high-rise, fly by, post 911
just to keep you on your toes
my prose so p-ssionate, precious like the contents of a b-ssinet
past blasphemous, and overly righteous just to keep myself balanced yet
mysterious, an enigma wrapped in a beat, cocooned
communicating through rap speak
following the trails of black feet when i blast these
b-st-rdized linguistics
and “speak-a-engrish”
better than blokes with bad t–th overlooking the thames and queen
the candid being, an alleged banana
who transforms to a beast like eric bana
when i bring this and fling this
and don’t give a d-mn thing where it hit
pull strings like mingus, this
cunning linguist tackles foes with prose
and exposes society’s holes and closes faster
than brian urlacher after a quarterback
i’m not a rapper, a word master
fly as a bird, word
and i’ll bird cr-p your whole dome
when i spit sh-t through your mobile phones, homes

[chee malabar]
i read brown’s the new black, thanks to henna and bhangra
sh-t, i’m thinking lock-up in a guantanomo slammer
geronimo pratt style, panther type stances
to keep raisin’ questions till they can’t suppress the answers
camphor based prose, c10-h16-0 flow
i brandish the stress my pops’ handsome face shows
homes i don’t dance for dough or pamper hoes, case closed
no rest haven, i’m wes craven when they bring the breaks in
murderous raven, staving off your blocks’ onslaught
playa, break down lines like ray lewis and make music
that’s makes buddhists embrace uzi’s
and let the spark from their shot light the darkest region in your heart
avant-garde no, malabar got carte blanche though
taking out the trash in any rap scr-p yard so
newsflash douche-bag, move past these raps here
you’re p-ssy talk, i’m scalpel sharp, come get your pap smear

- lirik lagu himalayan project

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