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dabrye - culture shuffle lyrics

[intro: kadence, silas green]
yo, kadence and dabrye
abolitionist crew, what you wanna do?
intricate dialect, silas green
yeah, yeah, so serious

[verse 1: kadence]
yo, f-ck any young n-gga out here tryna counterfeit the essence
of a psychedelic message’s metaholistic presence
shaky new age bullsh-t, flaky blue face cool kids
taking the caged fools and faking a sage toolkit
pathetic postering, wasting the day’s uses
harness the electric focus, could break the displayed fuses
but these kids just fake collage the mystic magic symbols together
except with no attempt to be intentionally clever
it’s a superst-tious hustle, new n-gga persona shuffle
a sh-tty, contrived slavemaster moral religious struggle
their ritualist misogyny, masked masculine matrix
their m-ss mask of discourse of necrophilic abas-m-nt
s-d-stic numbnuts sittin’ round and waitin’
the justice of the [?] goddess is castration
archetypal s-d-stic god kings, t-st-cl-s separated
become a gaggle of sh-teating cowards fallen from grace
a manic machismo force ’bout to force in reactor sp-ce
is unfolding manhood’s interior empty network of mazes
the guides to psychic [?] of mystic centers of power
and stifles an active force that can crush a bone into powder
watching lifeless bodies drop, hour after hour
after violence of a deafening silence just gets louder
i got more so don’t ignore if you can take it
and those who can’t can break and let your hottie body shake it

[chorus]
let ’em know they ain’t ready, they ain’t ready
is that a knife? you’re goin’ against a machete
get ready, do whatever that thou will
over here, we helpin’ the culture build

[verse 2]
that’s love, somethin’s changin’, i can feel it
within this fake world, we expose and reveal it
go back to my loom and we plot what the dealie
when the dollar drop, it don’t really matter how many
got gold on my mind, i already got a shovel
on my tony robbins, all i gotta do is hustle like we wes craven
hypernormalisation, type to entice a nation for psychological takin’ over
i’m buildin’ a mars rover
somethin’ to show the youngest it’s ok to start over
while you up there, remember the resources
do you what you gotta, remember the recourses
generation fake it till i take it
branded [?] in broad day just to burn the faces off of ice ages
young connecticut’s steppin’ over red planet sediments
snappin’ necks of replicants effortlessly (easy)
shafrikan american emeritus, style war veterans traffickin’ asparagus
we paralyze your larynx and realign the narratives
avalon to babylon, situation perilous
spirit of sel-ssie, in sequence with fibonacci
they try to dress these demons in sequins like liberace
i swing the blade, it sound like a hanzo
slice the beasts into thirds, let ’em die slow
and y’all know

[chorus]
let ’em know they ain’t ready, they ain’t ready
is that a knife? you’re goin’ against a machete
get ready, do whatever that thou will
over here, we helpin’ the culture build

[verse 3: silas green]
these verses are wrapped in the cloak of a free spirit praxis
woven inside a zone of raw autonomous action
beyond the back-and-forth, steady by an act of force
at the source, out of the void avoiding a backward course
operating from a biophilic framework
means developing a higher tolerance for pain first
peep the solar soldier’s clenched black fist
afrocosmonaut, no escape velocity backdrift
fulfills the need that our people heed and get on the ship
fleeing from a white supremacy guided apocalypse
we’ll leave a crooked literary cracker’s back broke
dreaming science fictional futures without black folks
and now refocusing, same old rappers are joking
these random -ssh0l- promoters who shattered half of the local scenes
with these bloggers and magazine phonies
the falsely esteemed cronies
opinions for screens only, machine droning
overhyping simple n-gga dibs punchlines
made for a segregated elementary school’s lunchtimes
ain’t no reason for you to be the minstrel
character will break their barriers with pad and pencils
at least me and itski keep the practices organic
peep the occult ontological panoramics
unveiling the secret crevices of the mind’s reach
keeping it live, s-xy and fly, divine speech

[outro]
what y’all want?

- dabrye lyrics

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