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black vulcanite - black narcissism lyrics

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[intro: ???]
[?] die faderland
[?]

[verse 1: mark question]
you see, despite the fact that
i wrote this attack rap as an extract
from an abstract form of art, that’s meant to attack the senses
this song has been designed to genetically
enhance your chances of catching the terminal illness
and you ain’t seen nothing to you one with the realness
that’s why it puzzles me how you can call yourself an artist and
try to rise sixteen lines with f+ckin’ parkinson’s
jokes haven’t been this lame since rowan atkinson
came into the game and f+cked the game up for you clowns
four rounds with muhammad ali, the moment i leavе
my house i have to carry id beforе these n+z+s
shoot me in the chest like trayvon when i stop
ghost of you [?]
remindin’ me why they stare when i’m dating a decent white baby
can’t give her mouth to mouth in spite to the life that it might save
and despite what they might say, epitaph on my grave
i, as a black man, understand the african right ways
of my forefathers, now my friends are all fathers
raising their own seeds to the planets, their own stardust
self+start a business, [?] is my witness
f+ck a nine+to+five, i’m at home enjoying my christmas
where are you? and what do you do with your precious free time?
black narcissism, separate by intricate design
[chorus]
[?]

[verse 2: alithatdude]
see i try and smile, so that the world’ll follow suit
narcissistic, who’s to say the world to follow you?
yeah, i lived a college living, no happiness in pursuit
i’m happier in the booth of passion that i exude
i’m making my move, huh, still ain’t getting paid for it
this music is our path now, we’s made for it
is what you rappers tryin’ to claim, but y’all make noise
my voice told me i’m about to k!ll it, i best be poised
but, yo, how long is it gonna take?
see i’ve been at it for twelve years, i hate to wait
am i a narc if i claim you rappers ain’t as great?
i translate that of the ordinary to fascinate…
minds, whose more than unsigned hyper down the grapevine
slowly matured, ain’t nothing easy ’cause it take time
but i’m scared to embrace this shine
feel like i’m getting left behind

[chorus]
[?] (where’d everybody go?)

[poem: nikolai tjongarero]
i write for myself and not for your gratification
that’s the only way i can continue to script the literary debauchery and that is enchased within my psychosis of veracity
a member of the elite black vulcanite from the league of the [?], i am indeed
see, we’re always unable to retort, yet always willing to be a standard to which you can judge your actions as the lesson is still learned
so i destroy and rebuild my intentions and perceptions, so that, one day, i may be able to destroy what you’ve [?]
learn from your failures, or be an expert at never succeeding
this is the scripture of the muse that was uttered to the deaf, blind, illiterate of the structurally uncouth, now known as the black narcissistic youth



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