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Cage Yo, I’ll send this to alla my corporate corpses Trying to abort the thoughts, coming out wilin’ Time to off the office, I was surely sort of twisted Worked at a tv studio, an audio assistant Easy, do my duty, though at times was in a ‘me’ mood Hot I gotta be cool I was on the brink of fiends truth Livin in the green room Made a brother the same color but beyond neon Pushing me to peon Barking at dreams to be gone ???talent and many they haven’t any Was especially a challenge When you be like goddamnit Can he lift his vocal As he’s cuffing it, how my mic sound? Thinking on the low, it’s perfect when he put the mic down Clown stand steady, willing wanting subservient Sound man blurting in thinking I’d f**king murder them steaming when I’m watching duke Scheming on some hot pursuit Gotta win as these cats be modelin’ what not to do In a getaway car In a getaway car In a getaway car, car, car, car In a getaway car In a getaway car In a getaway car, car, car, car Six in the morning And the walls close in High noon calls And the walls on him Kings at the ready Now the walls won’t win Aesop Rock Storms on the harbor, like a harbinger of bore Gore’s my harbinger, pardon the art of war Get your door’s darkened by the house of card carpenters Who never thought a slave could be a Spartacus or Pencil sharpener with a resume for the carnivores Take important conference calls In corner office walls Stealin buckets A bunch of these punch numbers Five punch just say no to company functions And I duck into the dungeons Nothing says kill it Like a day of pinching paperclips and staplers for the privilege Two lives, one is chores for whores One is where I wanna be when you begin regretting yours And I’m boredom with a large coffee Tardy every morning To a man who authority beyond what it was for How you gonna pay the rent? day job great Make rap records matter fact thanks! Peace! In a getaway car In a getaway car In a getaway car, car, car, car In a getaway car In a getaway car In a getaway car, car, car, car Six in the morning And the walls close in High noon calls And the walls on him Kings at the ready Now the walls won’t win I’m leaving… |
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