I like to say my records always try something new
But really all i’m doing is trying on costumes
I’ve been Ashworth, James, Lopatin, in brief
Now I’m a mix of Aesop Rock and The Streets
But comparing to Aesop i’m not as verbose
While for streets I’m far too monotone
All these getups are a constant scream
Saying I’ll never fit into my favorite scene
See? My beat made of microphone squeaks
Is my valiant effort to stand out and speak
My pointless vision that’s still probably been done
In a thousand million different ways and then some
And still here I am faking emotional
Turmoil for the sake of my next tutorial
Eighty five beats per minute and swearing
Wandering through words like a dog on the prairie
My simelis belittle me, shrill production tries to save it
In all this masquerade I’ll one day find that I made it
That’s all rap is, producers in a pissing match
To one up each other while some faggot flaps on it
You don’t even know if I believe what I say
I’ve steeped this in layers of costume fabric and blades
You could cut yourself on this edge I display
But if it’s ironic that means it’s ok
And by the way, have you seen inception
Make connections to fans with a pop culture reference
Smash that like, because the corporation’s dead
Spew forth into the endless free market we’ve bred
And wait for a commune to grossly take form
And become the one percent, say they’ll keep us all warm
If we sell our soul, but they’re only buying
If you’re mind and body is fit for supplying
Hear that? I’m a smooth jazz waitress
Tripping over the lower lip of my braces
I’ll try rhyming for more than two lines and ace it
Even as I run out and it’s senseless as aphids