rigamortis

you left me some bullshit, fuck daht

so who am i?

tryna save the world from it's soon to be suicide?

but who cares?

who'd try?

the world is such a loving victim they reply

why save what cannot be undone for truly we are one

 

who are we but bygones combined in the beats of our hearts,

bass drums and snares ride out in the mating calls of our lives

sex kills and drugs are passion fueled by chemicals

judging one another based on cars showing our decals

 

these criminals criminalizing what should not be unknown

the sixes on ol' georgie obvious like broken bones

 

jutting from the arms of your third born forsaken child

my mind snaps,

i think that i've turned will feral wild

 

get it?

clever wordplay so they take me for an intellect

every time i ask for collect they reply you don't deserve it

if there's something i deserve it's to take what is rightfully mine

rigamortis in my mind,

all my listeners reply

 

i kill the beat like andrew jackson did the red men

i read that men cannot create man,

but woman, think again.

effeminate rappers always end up making us worship all our sins

so you go home and sniff a line once again, once again

 

who imported that coca,

who processed that cane?

the government and the innocent just to get to eat some grain

it takes half a brain to realize that what's in your vein

is not your choice, no siree, but what your jailer's decision made

who made it?

i'm not pointing a finger but a whole fist.

the same worldwide entity with a terrorist list

freedom for the masses,

opiates on the airwaves,

it's a disaster that's just plastered the paper so send it my way.

 

wrap my weed with homicide,

warp my mind to overdrive,

it's obvious, no replies

what i desire,

all the sky

to be inside the palm of my hand

and no apologies to those i shit on, rhymin on the can

that's the plan

 

said that's the plan

 

 

said that's the plan

and every time i go in on a beat they somehow put me down

but i ain't havin yo shit,

no siree please don't clown

i'm well aware of the talent level in the six oh eight

and it's lacking except for one man

waiting to reach his fate

 

a ring-ting-ting (amen) and then we all fall down dead

a cannabis coma resulting in just trying to get fed

a peace offering smoked

to the gods of war and peace

it all falls to pieces,

in my mind at least

so who's who?

i don't really know how to respond to that.

there's a lotta stacks to be made at the hands of fat cats.

label execs that frankly don't have an interest in me

and that's fine,

i'm not used to be one for profiting.

 

clever wordplay so they take me for an intellect

every time i ask for collect they reply you don't deserve it

if there's something i deserve it's to take what is rightfully mine

rigamortis in my mind,

all my listeners reply

 

nimble fingers so they take me for a lover

every time i ask out Collette she replies i don't deserve her

if there's something i deserve it's to take what is rightfully mine

rigamortis in my mind,

all my listeners reply

 

i wouldn't call these hooks,

more like repeated statements.

just to call attention to the end like punctuations

abberation of the mind,

hallucinations in the sky,

diamonds in different colors and you were an angel on my side

get it?

 

strong soul but they don't take me as a threat and

every time i ask for god he says i'm not deserving heaven

if there's something i deserve it's to take what is rightfully mine

rigamortis in my mind,

all my listeners reply