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sworn-son - numbers on the boards (pusha t cover) lyrics

[intro]

(how you feeling? feel alright?)
i’m feeling alright
i don’t know about you

[verse 1]

double dutch-jumping, uppercut-punching calculations
sucker, what? ducking with your plastic faces
rearrange that brain, be insane, jack
be the chain and aim no need to blame rap
i’m feeling like you’re feeling like you getting hype is really tight
the philly types feeling like it’s a stupid and silly sight
give me mics, give me stages, living phrases
missing pages indicate you jumping jacks can’t even bicker right
argue about clothing lines, get clothes-lined
you troopers talking about your futures but there’s no time
to even co-sign my independent -ss
i’m sick of rap already, standing still and steady
i’m a sentry, guess i’m trapped
orders from the top, the borders of this box
are getting bashed. pay attention, quarter-mil or not
that water spill is hot but if i author all the drops
i can’t get burned so i build until the mortar is in shock
until the brick looks at the mortar with confusion
and they both look at the builder and start losing it
cause my sh-t was so hard-hitting because the bars written spell out prison:
precious, rhythmical, intellectual, sociopathic, open nails
given to be nailed in the form of math – numbers on the board
look at me under all the chords

[hook]

ballers, i put numbers on the boards
web crawlers, i put numbers on the boards

[verse 2]

(motherf-ckers can’t rhyme no more ’bout crime no more)
look, i’m no lord still i sign those floors
with my footprints still hooked in to my spinal cord
i walked and i shook them into times of war
i’m a neanderthal: i existed before the modern man
i’m bordering on misfit. born with a lot of plans
dude, you gotta land no matter how fly you are
the chatter, i am tired of
blacker than your tires, worn
pushing numbers on calculators and buying chalks
f-cking done with asking favours and trying to talk
deleted record label executives’ phone numbers
playing witchcraft and they’ve got their own muggles
with some string luck i’ll push out from being a mudblood
’til i connect with listeners deeper than lovers
you don’t scare me with your covers and awards
look, i’m the type of person suckers can’t avoid
holler!

[hook]

- sworn son lyrics

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