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mayday, brotha lynch hung, & ces cru - strange march lyrics

uh huh, what we have here
is a failure to communicate. come on

grrr
gimme that b-ssline
that b-ssline
put that b-ssline in there

with all this k!llin’ goin’ on
did i forget to mention how
we’re strange music b-tch, do i got your attention now
it wasn’t the decade grind that i put in the dented ground
or the million battle rappers, you seen wreck what’s tearin’ down
i’m marchin’ towards domination
your anne frank and my etiquettes atticus finch when i mock your patients
i brung the best ces with the excess innovation
for the minimum live in the days end
such a similar civilization

f-ck a leader, they buying followers
awakin’ deities everyday that i write a verse
livin’ with polymers, actors and rock bottom-ers
i’m here until i hit 88 on barometers
good scotch the plot thickens
to all you b-tchin’ story tellers, get my charles d-ckens
with all the fixers, wish death to none accept the mission
outta religion still i pray to somethin’ for forgiveness
impaired vision

i’m marchin’ to the minutes
i’m livin’ my life as a resurrection of a jack the rhythm ripper
so please carve me in his image
and mark this in the guinness
when i break these hardened critics
you can’t look death in the face if you can’t brave the arkham limits
this is not fair
you claim you want the fame but then you’re not there
so you came to raise, but stopped where
and became amazed, how not rare
preppin’ for the armageddon, tryin’ not to skip the h-ll’s
schools shocked weld on and karma never seemed to fit me well

snakes in my backyard
alts on my coffee stand
go bomb, swing that bat
beg for approval stamps
if not, it’s shark tanks and human anchors
soilin’ green dreams for fiends
with a side of that ed factor
when chapters turn, kings are burned
service watch ’em blind ’em to the perfect time they still will turn
they pan flash, while god’s laughin’ and roles reversed
so f-ck politics, why not fl1ck match a watch it burn
to scorch earth

this is my last will and testament
my last hidden messages
we out lived every estimate
since we’re gone, take the rest of it
and we’ll march on (march on)
march on (march on)
march on (march on)
march on (march on)
and we’ll march on (march on)
march on (march on)
march on (march on)
left, right

100 steps to the gallows
knowin’ you can’t escape ’em
by that harley, put all of your sorry’s
in a sack and save ’em
we the new breed, hardest of the martyrs
call a truce please
before we sober up, hit armageddon on a loose leaf
we too deep
rockin’ a poker face, and so you know the fold
they look at us like suckers, we the lowest, on the totem pole
might as well cut off his feet, he could never go toe to toe
evacuate men women and children, [?]

[?] high society, controlled by the elitest
to keep an eye on me, with gps, radio frequency i.d chips
i’m sleepy eye, from secrets they’d been keepin’
why i’m sheepish
design a fetus? treat my privacy like i don’t need it, nah!
no rhyme or reason, this is survival season
where you could be tried for treason
banishment, radicals, bible beatings
manor-less, surveillance, panoramic skin my wrist
mannequins, bar coded from government management
fall in

look here, we all in
everyone is a target
t–tering on insanity, reasonin’ with the heartless
bargainin’ with the devil, manipulatin’ the circ-mstances
easier done, everyone is a worker ant
certain plans, never see ’em rich and when will it end
i’m grippin’ the wheel of misfortune cousin now let it spin
get it in, f-ckin’ that, everybody gets on the house (house)
tryna shelter up, and put somethin’ edible in their mouth

i’m restless, not a ounce of sleep
tormented by, the sounds of screams
shepherds rot, breath of god
cascadin’ a 1000 feet
from the flamin’ bush, they gave me a push
on the top of a mountains peak
to test the bounds of my mortality
baby boo go, biddy bye bye
you’re the one crest of the crest my weapon shine
leave my army to their death
never let my message die
step in time
god i miss you
you would hardly recognize me if you saw me
now my soul burns everyday, i’m sayin’ i’m sorry
not my fault

(arghhh!)
this music is too loud, it got me goin’ sicko
my enemies is my homies, they got me playin’ pickle
paranoid, so i keep my mw3
that’s the gun i use when i’m k!llin’ on mw3
and i don’t give a f-ck, i embrace my main followers
and i pack somethin’ that’ll make your chest play hollower
hit ’em with the bullets, make ’em twist like oliver
i spit sick sh-t, you couldn’t see me on the monitor
i vomit n-gga, maybe i need drugs to survive
catch me in the club, with a grudge and a 9
tech n9ne , only cause i love strange music
a lot of n-ggas talk about it, but most of ’em won’t do it
he’s a star, i bring to war, kinda like george lucas
i’m a germ, i’m a fungus, my n-gga i’m a mucus
mayday!, mayday!, mayday!
i’m comin’ to join ya’ homie
with a fat -ss, sack and a a-k on my back
let’s get it
(grrrrrrr )

- mayday brotha lynch hung ces cru lyrics

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