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last sons - megaton test lyrics

[verse 1]
write on defibrillator rhyme pads, connect them to your chest (clear!), kickstart your system when you thought the end was near
they thought there was a faint pulse and very little brain activity here, this is the sound of their unfounded fear
surf on sound waves till they’re sonic tsunamis, enlisting words like soldiers and then mobilise armies, quotable lines like arnie, “remember when i promised to k!ll you last? i lied.”
and such like. my mic sounds nice, the steroid stereo types, giving speakers muscle definition when we’re flexing. perplexing perceptions with every single syllable selection, no question
like stuttering interviewers with no autocue. no auto tune, the sort of dude like a boxing commentator, spit punchlines of substance in abundance to run this. me, p, nasa combine to crush this
bombing uncommon the verbal gunner from the squadron, the soldier who emerged from the golden era cauldron. in the days before it was stolen and m-ss mic holding and these n-z- labels treated rap like it was poland
caught in a blaze of a cultural explosion but these flames can’t be maintained without the flames of true emotion

[chorus]
megaton test, mega megaton test
megaton test, prepare for the blast wave
megaton test, mega megaton test
megaton test, prepare for the blast wave
megaton test, mega megaton test
megaton test, prepare for the blast wave
megaton test, mega megaton test

[verse 2]
i will strike down upon thee with furious, over the most murderous, unrelenting, merciless
boom box bombardment, harsh like this harsh truths that k!ll an argument dead in its tracks
the devastating attack that leaves a vacuum-like silence, the theological theory debunked by science
the madonna statue crying in front of the eyes of the sceptic, the response to the words, “yes sir, you’re infected.”

[verse 3]
i make each sentence serve me, stand behind these bars. i emerge a changed man, reveal audible scars. this is rehabilitation, therapy and education, i’m a resident in a cell of my own creation
there seems to be no escaping, the only means of release from this raw sk-nk redemption, are these poems and beats. live from the belly of the beast, this style is now free, through a tunnel to the north, escape to victory
i jumped the barbed wire fence formed an underground resistance, sentry-like vision, spot infiltrators at a distance. tear back the rapping like christmas, they lack presence, but they’re presented as legends with depressing incessants
they’re guessing these replicants could beat the voight kampf test, snipers stationed strategic, got the target in crosshairs. while the most vocal of revolutionaries are sitting in armchairs, we weaponise words and they we sell them at arms fairs

- last sons lyrics

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