Bottle of Humans

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

Top of the world

Yet I ain't never left my head

And I turned to look back

Every second page is an anthem from a different mood

In a perfect world I set the perfect mood

And in a perverted abode I claim rogue

In plain clothes

And sing songs of utter depression, love, chemical imbalance and sheer paranoia

My science is fiction

A kick space, wrapped for the down to earth heads

The kids that get dubbed are the only ones that wanna listen

My words and my world will leave a knot but mean a lot to some

Can't say that I'm ahead of my time

I fear that my time will never come

Can't exist outside the bottle

Know I crack under pressure

No one questions why they got there

And if they don't, they don't get any better

Unless they got a god for an object of animal animating

In a still life picture of Brian Tarpitt

What can you take here as my red carpet?

These are distress signals, man

And you and I in verses

So, if anyone here's in a soul survivor of a dying civilisation

A galaxy called "Integrity"

And that hell called creativity

But it's not a black dwarf snuffed by a cold world

I keep warm by burnin' dead bodies

Smell the defeat that never sets

So all it takes is to walk the streets

Until the building no longer remains

My people are my people

Commerce and ally

The lines are drawn

This is my gold tag

Everywhere I go, I don't belong

I'm known by most, hated by many

Adored by the rest

Beliefs are sketchy

And I'm so east but why did I end up on the west?

Don't wanna sacrifice my cadence and sentence structure

Design by rhyme, etcetera

Anticon

Hip Hop music for the advancement of mankind

More than an egomaniacal, sarcastic label for a movement

The wind of change still smells like a million corpses in kerosene

Marching to burn down the walls of the village and storm the castle

Round up the damsels, take 'em to the river

Now we can spawn

This ain't pre-millenium tension

It's the result of too much free time on dusty fingers

And it'll be a wonderful vibe

A million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood

To live and die a thousand times

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

Ever been to Hell?

This is a black and white photo album outlined in infrared

The infrastructure is dead

The instructors fled the scene of the massacre

Asking for forgiveness

No begging

No leg and only body

Everybody's dummies in the alleyway

Sole casts the rolling luck

Watch my breath and mark my words in white chalk

Gawking at reflections walking in this direction

Catching bad ones

This isn't spoken word

It's the reinvention of Sugar Hill

Right now, your girl is transfixed upon my scripts

And this is Sole making love right now

So I don't ned to take her to the hotel

This is a love song

I'd pass out roses but the thorns sear my flesh

I'm like, these are groupies

I'm a mammal

My whole life's a freestyle set

Stars only exist in the sky

So, nothing gets to my head

The universe is my A and R

By the time I fall off, I'll probably be dead

It's been a long time since mountains, pine trees and shovelling snow

Now my closest peers are the greatest talents I'll ever know

Music's gotten impersonal

Hip Hop persona's gotten vain

So M-C's, I ain't feeling you if I don't know your real name

Hip Hop ain't dead, the industry isn't whack

Indie Hip Hop is a demo fair

Keep your sights set

What do you want to move?

Rats minds or posteriors?

I'm still a fan

Corporate insider and rainmaker

It's springtime

Where are the centaurs and people in grass skirts?

This is the verge, the melting point

Where your favourite M-C's can't be lazy anymore

The psychopath, this is psyche rap

With violins, violence

My life stranded on and island with no food

But beautiful women feeding my ego or what little is left

No, this is gangsta rap

My shirt's unbuttoned

We stealing moments of brilliance, even limelights

Chopping up keys to break the floodgates

Maybe this is instrumental Hip Hop

And I don't know when to shut up

Well, maybe this is turntable music

Scratch the I's and I'll scratch yours

Or what if this is honest music and I mean every other word I say?

Don't take anything literal or out of context

Just take it for what it is

If you want labels we can divide, I'll still be strong

Bottom line, it's all art

This is a good and a bad song

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)

(I've been so many places)

(In my life and times)

(Yes, I've sung a lot of songs)

(And made some bad ones)