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justin warfield - glass tangerine lyrics

[verse 1]
psychedelic, mad ill
wrong type of rhetoric
slang speak, double freak
undercover limerick
never been the has+been, pocket full of loot (yeah)
pants on the set but never known to wear a suit

keep a low pro, phylactic for the sake (uh huh)
healthy mind and modest when they’re slender at the waist
smooth talk, never hawk, love to kick the hard rock
bad boy baby on the mic i’m just flexin’ (uh)
gone with ya mad self, that’s what they’re tellin’ me
blеssed with the spirit of my father through hеredity
as the wind blows, the buildings tumble
grabbin’ on my jeans, stand strong and humble

[verse 2]
i’m just a voodoo child with words in my brain
i open up my soul and let ’em trickle like the rain
i came from the cosmos, now i’m on the third stone
used to know of jazz ‘fore the relic, zángano (what?)

kickin’ sh+t and lovely, the psychedelic child (uh huh)
family from the islands but descended from the nile
sk!lls to the left and styles to the right
born in ’73, and then my mind took flight

something like an acid trip, but i’m pretty sober
step ’till the kid fall off the cliffs of dover
struggle back and get your feet on course
guided by the sounds from a positive source

experience the groove as it penetrates ya eardrum
bumpin’ in ya system with the ‘woofer kickin’ fearsome
peaceful in a way, but a temper like a tantrum
not to be conceited but the women call me handsome
loungin’ in the milk bar is how i get over
i’ll get sharpened up with a sip of korova
invented that, the style, usurp a match you never heard before
i’m a psychedelic child born to get buck wild (buck wild)

[guitar solo]

[verse 3]
+cough+ well, um
back to my flow, from a ballpoint sword (yeah)
loose+ring paper plus a mic and a cord (uh)
gold is never worn feet
smooth i got no crumbs i keep a stride
its simple, vocal pep and with sk!lls, i was born

um, not to tall, 5’10” to be exact
dig the hard beats makin’ love to a track
bleedin’ from the sound, and taller full of talent
raised full of rhythm, got the gift and so i ran it

i run it up and down the line and through the vu meter
the clip and clamp, and dip when i’m divin’ its comin’, eat up
a hip+hop bohemian, a renaissance of rhythm
a tangerine look in to the middle of a prism

a daydream dialogue, mushroom meanderin’
flim+flam on the path funky and philanderin’
used to have dreads but they broke like beat street
now our style in season and i’m nodding to the big beat
it’s almost like mardi gras, when i’m in the booth
a young beat brewer with the will to get loose
inspired by leary, by now i’m gettin’ weary
i’m out tike todd bridges and rollin’ like proud mary

[outro]
monday, 11:37 am
[?]
hang in there, we’ll be on soon
keep the+ hold the fort down
keep the ra+ keep the dead raccoon out of my truck
please

- justin warfield lyrics

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