BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
The Headache
- 1 verse:
- Yo, now listen close,
- That's not another song
- About alcohol and dope
- It's not about how girls
- Dancin' in the club,
- Just open your mind
- And let it penetrate into your soul
- And pull some strings of your emotions,
- You collected and then locked,
- Just let 'em go!
- Your brain can start hysterics
- Or still stay calm,
- It all depends
- On how many nerve cells
- You have destroyed,
- I suppose,
- I simply burn 'em everyday,
- Now my rage is uncontrolable,
- My head is gonna crack
- In every moment ,
- I can't stand the pressure
- That causes such /tortorous headaches/,
- It /hurts me so painful/,
- I'm waitin' for a /cause to be happy/,
- I'm hopefully spendin my time
- By /composin' these textes/,
- Am I psycho?
- Goddamit, I've /surely gone crazy/,
- Mental problems,
- They get frightend
- Of how these /words are connected/,
- No'thing poetic, fuckers,
- The result of /psycholo'gical damage/,
- And /noone can help me/,
- When I talk with a regular
- Person there's /no understanding/
- And the only way to heared
- Is to put these /thoughts
- Into sentences/.
- Hook:
- Still no /apologies/!
- The sicker I get,
- The deeper my /knife digs in/
- Psychological problems made me
- Bypass your /ideology/
- And now I'm here
- Just standin' /behind you, prick/
- With a wire cutter and a scalpel
- Waitin' for every moment to /harm you with it/!
- 2nd verse:
- Now let's mull over some things,
- Just uncover your ocean of feelings
- Let it rush to your brain and fiil it,
- Open your gateway and spill it,
- Direct this powerful stream forward
- To the craft that you're interested
- In, dive, then completely drown,
- Till you grow fuckin' branchiae for breathin'
- You're frightened of snorkellin'
- In this cloudy liquid, but it's the only
- Way to figure out why theese problems appear,
- Surely, the pain will relive, and
- This empty space have to be filled with
- New energy RE CHARGE
- To make those mothefuckas belive that
- You ain't gonna LEAVE NOW,
- Spendin' evenings with a pencil and a textbook,
- They rediculed and laughed at me,
- That's why use their weapon straight agains 'em,
- I bring my hatered to a liquid state
- And use my /pen as a syringe/, and inject
- This red ink into a sheet of paper,
- And these /letters appear there/,
- My lyrical pressure is dangerous
- For brains of people with no imagination,
- Only psychopaths will understand my fuckin' allegories,
- Cuz the sickening swelling in my cranium
- Still creatin' this shit,
- And the much it's progressin' in my head,
- The much I'm gettin' crazy and fierce
- *Hook*
- 3rd verse:
- Troublesome character,
- Warfare between warped and intelligent,
- So close to be madman,
- Feels like my brain soaked in the acid,
- Need a brainwash,
- Before my thoughts will start spreadin'
- And I harm myself badly,
- I'm phrenetic like Alex from Madaskar,
- It's funny,
- that people /suffer from people/,
- Then try to/find help from people/,
- This fuckin' /cycle's no limit/,
- That's why we got /serial killers/,
- And rap seems to be quite similar,
- Fuck role models and idols,
- Don't let bitches enter your head and live here,
- Stay /icy and real/,
- Music is something that can set you on /fire and heat/,
- The new generation of hip hop lost it,
- Now it's all about pretty /sounding and beat/,
- Singin' to poor children about /money and chicks/,
- It's idiocy, cuz some untalented grew up,
- And right now they're /robbin' your crib/,
- You're stupid enough to rap about cash
- And build on it your /entire career/,
- You can't do nothin' but spill liquor in
- Your /mouth, you just pricks/,
- Your producer fucks your anus
- And y'all cal it autotune,
- /Dimonds in teeth/,
- I guess Yams died cuz of /Rocky's V.D./,
- Fuck new school,I hate you all,
- That goes from /Tyga to Wiz/,
- From Cheef to Gucci,
- Don't give him fuckin' /mic in the prison/,
- On this fuckin note
- This fuckin' track /finally ends/,
- Don't call your shit "hip hop" no more,
- It's ain't a /genre you fit/.
- *Hook*
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