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war church - fair lyrics

i’m one bruce banner scene past shifty science. heat hands. applying them to purple sand making green glass. that’s my play upon words! verbs acts as spotlights. consonant continents staging war on playwrights that won’t rock right. when all that’s left looks right? i’ll lose all faith in politics and look at life’s light like a bat in popped halogen apocalypse. this sign reads” don’t bother,” ’cause i’m as heavy as heaven on a dying man’s breath learning in his last gasp he’s no father. my figure of speech is an old black racist that hates kids, sn0bby b+tches and little motherf+ckers that say sh+t. fall in the gap. believe the matrix. image is nothing. your scrimmage is huffing and puffing over your shoes have dirty laces. we don’t share common bonds; that’s roast beef and ramadan. that’s cochise and college shots. that’s so me its almost not… fair. divine comedy like knots landing on a red planet with olympus mounds spitting the spores from the mouth that made planet dirt earth

it’s almost not fair. its almost not fair. its almost not fair. its almost like “rapping is my hobby”

i’m the hand up mona lisa’s skirt. the stanza that seems to burst when the standard doesn’t seem to work. i’m massive underneath the dirt! a master; with the weakest words i’ll damage every piece of earth. i’m mannish, so it seems at first, until you manage to see my vision. so, at a glance, i’ll be the worm. so advance and be concerned. so advanced when i seem to work the land seems to burn. mechanical movement. cannibal human improving the race by consuming the stupid. a more suitable taste will strait jacket any hand that meanders into a beautiful place designated for lizards! crew and tomorrow kings. hardly anything you say won’t reside in terrance trent darby’s role in the wu tang family tree. we don’t share common bonds; that’s tiger woods riding a swamp rhino screaming “there’s an ll tattoo up canibus sleave.” admitting he’s black’s referring to jesus with the pope in agreement the same moment our first black president converts to islam at a masonic meeting

this is not your average looseleaf minstrel! it’s kratos fencing with pencils. pensive war hammers stencil human forms into concrete. simple minds don’t tread. imagine: th+rn crowns on replicants slaughtering sheep for cheap condoms. (an) amalgam of condor/b52. fix fiction to dorsal fin fishing for complimentary color coded death cousin dosing crowds with culture vulture corpses encrusted with tablets reading “hook, chorus, refrain, bridge.” slang changing to a view finder of pain language. have you ever sat staring at the hollow moon with the angsty face of a new jack, common ground lifted into 8 sections professing “ignored is the new black” while holding hands while holding hands with a white girl figuring (out) how to crush the colossus in between obama terms in words rearranging the crack era into abstract terra while making black kids conscious? no! if so narwhals are unicorns swimming on vacation. mega man x is a j+panese muslim soul stealing cannibal with a robotic pin cushion animal flaming lips extra. insane his brain is a blessing from the dark skin extraterrestrials hiding behind the sun. and if i slowed it down you still wouldn’t get it! so excuse me while i tattoo my knuckles with word “condescending.”

- war church lyrics

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