aeronautics - they (short version) lyrics
playing my alto, for sax of tenors
i fused rain and sand dunes, contracting a mirage
miraculously enraged, mire and asphalt imprisoned
then in came they, spirits invigorating spirit
my nerd foundations grew higher , street comprehension
bridging the gap, with a sensation of suspension
fit like a pigeon in a coop or coup d’état to a troop
co-operatively loved ‘the rap loop’ so soon wrapped me in the loop
jump-ing in a che-vy, b-mp-ing gkmc
scrunched up in the back seat, let my styles roam free
an entendre entente emb-ssy
the diamond grind defied the time like no-one trusted shirley b-ssey
but in the back of my mind, i knew i was wrestling
whether you do hip-hop or even equestrian
go through with it you’ll soon get a denouement effecting y’all
they blocked me up against the wall like cholesterol
uh, the bridge was over, criminal minds they made a shroud
they hit the roll-ups, hit the lines, and hit the clouds
but i’m aeronautics, so hit the lines from the clouds
spied him through a blunt, placed an ‘x’ then ‘blaow!’
out the cutl-ss “your sorcery turned my protege to morphine
i would school you properly, straight, but see your all lean.”
shook my head, cool, but hot to leave, but he implored me
went from scorning, brawny and bawdy to washed like fluorine
“buddy cops, in a hurry clock us, so quick cop this buddy
take a puff just once, it don’t make you no druggie.”
“so if i k!ll a man once, it don’t make me no murderer?
and if i believe you, it don’t mean i’ve heard of ya or im full of ya? bullshit
the d-mn d-ckens, flushed red, begging for more, hoping for a twist
smelling of raw, the remnants of raw dismissed
through crowds i swept, flashing past and purging reign
out on the left was acid rap and other purple rain from purple veins
the prince, through these paths of rhythm, his tribe formed a pack of five dogs
the blowpipe smoking, dart-toting, glacking hive god
flaunted a gang-hood, estranged, he drove the reigns forward
gave unleashed hounds like rainsford, arranged like a foreword
jumped out my skelly, still with gkmc
was like the end of fc3, someone just hit rt
on caffeine, coffin was a jumpsuit, down on luck and downstream
woke up out of that dream, beamed at jesus, and streamed reams of extreme cream, breathing
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