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lirik lagu quadroon - death of ideas

how do you destroy an idea?
how do you enjoy whats right here?
whats the difference between a dream and a night mare?
whats it mean when we talk about free while life ain’t quite fair?

i’m right here, no questioning my presence
not a thought attatched, molded focus
pointed, sharpended, ultra notice
everything and every moment in its total essence

no sight seer, or tourist, imma tortious
stationed right here until my rigamortis
dedication’s an understatеment, better undеrstand it~i set the pace with

sp~ceship vibrations, astral frequencies
and airiel perception (chemical distractions)
rectangular abstraction, replaced with, spherical contemplation, and empirical observation

magic carpet cadets with edible starvation
chasing, the faceless realm behind the fiction
admitted and accented in its, representative
present pleasant, presentation

feet hanging, off the edge of the world
emersed within mental content, that constantly learns
hearing gods in the birds, seeing, ghosts in my words
i’d explain it but, reasons a joke, have you heard?
thinking upstream gets, ugly quick
i’m the ugly duck, from the mid 90’s, like wassup f~cksh~t
we’ve built, landfills, atop pastures and meadows
give the pastor a medal, we’ve turned spirit into matter

sky sings as the sun dips, after comes the clouds drip
pay attention to surroundings, all around us
give your blessings to the soundset
bled the blend together as the crowd wept along with the song now spit

houseless, but unconditional home
fundamentally own, so essentially known
intetelctually grown, its so asstounding
instrumental gets blown, into simtherines, i allowed it

the grass is greener where you water it
the astroturf is only as fresh as you bought it
everytime a beat masters threw up a loop~i slaughtered it
like a ninja of fruit, my words sharper than ~rs~nic

this is that
manufactured emotion from my intelect
pardon may i enter, didn’t mean to interject
i’m colder than father in november, hold tradition like a syndicate
flipping rythms and every mic i see i intercept
this is that sh~t, you can’t find on the internet
when research becomes a google search, we’ve limited
the infinite, mind, my third eye, watches the ember lit
burn by like fireplaces in december dens

a nice guy, but on the mic i like to sever heads
so best watch where you step, i suggest
if it’s in my direction, you start pivoting
been on a mission since i was first sh~tted in this universe

out the void, i emerged
with a voice of the gods, but i never been to a church
one day i’ll go prolly, and enter into state of samdhi
make 4d objects appear with my spoken verse

many have played me, acting like animation, no
body can save me, my fate is my hands n graced by
the soul of malcom, word the amalgam
i can move a mountain like marble with an anlbum, do you feel me?

your ears are being peirced with this verbal vomit
and everybody, just, wanna sideline
wait until it all gets back to normal
i think that sh~t is bullsh~t as a nightlight

houseless, but unconditional home
fundamentally own, so essentially known
intetelctually grown, its so asstounding
instrumental gets blown, into simtherines, i allowed it
houseless, but unconditional home
fundamentally own, so essentially known
intetelctually grown, its so asstounding
instrumental gets blown, into simtherines, i allowed it

man of the mind, “m” engraved up on my spine
metaphoric with my rhetoric, i web within a rhyme
real sh~t, not that type that you could buy
but that type, that fights crime, from sundown to sunrise, its a sign

i’m the no town, repping og, both coast~sides
know me, like the shoreline meets sea
the message i’ll explain all contained in the
presence of each wave, hear em sing!

you see
the they can’t get enough of my vernacular
so i just keep it coming like viagara
each word a color, what i utter non verbal
this is visual, empirical and mythical with more

than the average eye absorbs, this is war
through the passage, lines, explore, through the door lies the ya
past reprises torn, so i locked it and ate the key
then took a torch to the doorn0b like the beat getting scorched

scott stortch, with handles, got the force, i’m a animal with a course, follow the way or get forced
from the source, we’ve emerged and to the source
we shall burn, and hopefully learn we were there, all along from the first beat, of course

- lirik lagu quadroon

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