And They Ask Me Why I'm Quiet
• Written by ribs
I like my rap from eighty nine to maybe ninety nine
I might like it today, too, but maybe I'd be lyin
Old rap classics are so fantastic,
It drove me spastic to know we've passed it.
Oscars are not sure to guarantee interest.
Sometimes they hit the mark, or miss by inches.
Regardless I'm hard-pressed to not enjoy a film
If I find a couch to lay on, a place where I can chill.
Pick a painting, picture it, that includes the simplest.
From legendary artists to what your little kid did.
It's all the same to me, you can't paint a piece
that changes the name of what a painting means.
But step back a minute, you got too into it.
You've got to undo that list and make revisions quick.
All that you believe in is measured and counted
and frowned on if it sounds like you clowned around it.
So think twice before you announce your enjoyment/
you could fall on your tail like the odds of a coin flip.
People are waiting, they're hungry and hating.
You can't even breathe without rounds of debating.
This is why I hesitate, this is why I'm less afraid
to get away and meditate when nothing's left to say.
I hate the public pressure to love whatever's best for
the dressers of pleasure and the flocks of equal feathers.
Sometimes I like what I like because I like it
and I just die when I try to fight the right cliques.
If peace was as easy as the needs of the greedy
then we'd all be eating at the seats of the needy.
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About the Artist
ribs
Member since February 26 2015