Headphone Static

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Pat Juba] Another mission, U.V.S stress competition To communicate, spill 7th degree burn victim No air conditioning, humidity heat section A coalition, cold-blooded starving vocalism Three room prison, the fourth invisible Got you locked on principles Lacking courage inside your mental, nourish The illest thoughts on world politics Relax, inhale, meditate on this, religious indigenous I crucify the world during eclipse Radio wave captivate slave breaking this Inhabitants of past tense, untouchable nonsense Of Hip-hop culture wise, blindfold your eyes I represent it as your professing disc jock Synthetic terrorism, assassinate your wisdom Vision is twisted like hallucinogenic sinning Christians Alter the mission, 12 monkey angle listen Constantly dissing, diligent schism My realism is ill, I build pyramids, an illest prison I meditate to elevate, the world around is opposite I concentrate, constantly rocking shit [Chorus: Vocal sample - ] x4 You don't need to be gangsta to be street, man It's music that's made for your mind [Verse 2: Sep Sev Sev Two] Hahaha Yo, a comedian of your caliber should have an agent Here's my card, that's my number, give me a call, I get you paid kid I gave it all I had, it wanted more Blew up the monitor before somebody had the nuts to feed the carnivore They acting startled when the shit began to fray to the edges They hit the resin and chased it with Benson & Hedges But fuck a contract Cause what you need is a contact buzz To free the clutch and compress the TV's fuzz Let me outta the agreement Put me in treatment Cause the picture's uneven I got a fistful of grievance Fuck the etcetera, the bullshit rhetoric, whatever, the vendettas The false endeavors and heed the fucking weather When I'm simple and plain I cripple the lame When I adjust the thrust up a notch, I cast a layer of frost Across your glossy eyed outlook Never been out shook By the flossy lies Metamorphosize by your forceful pride Greed is dead Some need to bleed to get that through they head, true Seeks bread, won't read unless they read to And everything you do has meaning So add some feeling When the break hits, let's all flip and grab the ceiling [Chorus: Vocal sample - ] x4 You don't need to be gangsta to be street, man It's music that's made for your mind [Verse 3: General Woundwart] I got a hunch I can crunch MC's within the flash of an eyelid Snap your lumbar and then supply this Injurious hand hold, trying to defend against this is useless Blow the candle on your last birthday, my words break So chill with the backtalk, if you slack you get caught You oughta think about the thought Of fist-to-jaw clashing In the midst I saw niggas rappin' So I snuck up and hit the duck up You need to brush up, touch-touch the renegader Many feel the laser once Ant drops the fader Communicator, I got an Uzi made of paper Trying to do me is major, lose me in Fanastasia You're artificially, taking part in the art Trying to get with me, throwing sparks from out your limousine Continuing, to bring the hype, ever sleazier I knock the teeth in ya, then you go back and tell the media Through the Yamaha monitor, we got it at Defcon 4 I fly alone like a commodore, we on a tour so prepare for war Cause you's about to feel the wrath of the Gen. Woundwart