i dont even know anything about rap how can i express my disdain for the decline of rap when i don t even know how it s dying doomtree fuckers cecil otter on the beat yeah we push the borders for quarters order catastrophe order we shot for the sons and daughter of anguished apathy who barely practice but smash in the back with a backbeat never hold back see if i could show that and the whole track is stacked against me exactly alright got a pine for the good kids drink in the sink everything that flows now and im on my toes now ever since this crew got a bit heated we lit that match and we burning the fire grows now and i think that shows how hard the hard nail we wanted just a little piece of the comet saw it promise born it we come it dont know to stomach the plumet when it comes tell that we want it til its done i weave a message in the pictures that i spit i leave em etched in they leave a mess with the pen unless they only sketch around so sittin nervous when the rent come they sweatin fold they checkin we sittin certain work with the hand we got we double down thats how we live it put the chips in the futurist conviction if you would kick it to the movement stupid youre bound to drown i throw my hands up in the static manic to cause some friction whos back with a battered palate callous cause he cracks the sound from the middle of the continent get em cause it s getting what you fit in so i get my piece plus plus a puzzle pigeon hole i be the chisel chipping up the brittle bone i wanna be paid m c berserker banshee trying to eat just living running on pills and gasoline writing all bills in magazines past fashion fast passion never really did mean that much for me glad to see all friends have made out hows my life look from where you stood simply too true to be too good we write like nothin ah one two my check we rock a d i y ethic because the rest dont ever d i at all we take the bottles on the roof no books at all last to break his ankles has to get mom the doom crew consumes a pattern raw like your crew got lost in the applause you got that broke hypnosis focus too long on straight lines i got this broken flows exploding my crows rock steak knives  gone with a suitcase and get a smooth face but rough around the edges same song but a new blank play for the group rates and nothin slow down my mind my mic its like my nine to five fly by grip to the fist fit a wrist slip misfit grind by the blindside plead on them wide eyes pick em back up with the stigmata liquid that spits from the depths of my spines pride take a tax on the ticket timid tipped to the brim see cause the deaf dont flip brim tip to the ceiling like whoa like a pistol pissed in honda mikell mix that fist hit harder see the punch out take the muck out pissed off coppers we playin robbers standing up and rise through the sagas had enough well yeah thats enough i wanna be paid m c berserker banshee trying to eat just living
['abstract hip hop', 'minnesota hip hop', 'underground rap']