Fixed

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Ayo, it's time for me to ride my invitation to the room A product of them baby-boomers, but I never believed in kids blowin' up into celebrities With no indemnities these cartoon characters makin' tunes But you can't pay no dues in wombs But in return, I burn my etching on the moon I learned my lesson on the loom, in essence, I will truly bloom I paint with all the colors of the wind like I was Judy Kuhn I tend to hit that booty soon, type of pum-pum I will consume When I'm bangin', I'm goin' "Boom-Boom-Boom" And brothers think I'm out there, rainin' pain in your contained monsoon I'll play your game like Final Doom Where there's no end take it to 64 levels of graphic planes And you can feel the texture mappin' on your brain What's next to happen doesn't change I resume, so don't assume I flex to rappin' just for cappin' I'm laughin' at these wannabe MCs, desolated like dune My tracks are more anticipated than the month of June in public schoolrooms I've got that "Boom-Boom-Bap, Original Rap" I wanna track it back, so fuck the clappin' gats and satin macks Cause I've got tons of backing that's available to crack a stack of the wackest actors tryin' to rap – they're gettin' flat Like the bitches I used to peep in 7th grade It's 7 days till dawn, while RBM we breakin' the norm to keep it on And even though I'm Monotone at certain points within my diction My depiction of reality is fixed within your vision 'Cause you're fixed [Chorus] Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Lyrically overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, lyrically overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Lyrically overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, lyrically overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed [Verse 2] So, Skiddly-Bebop, yo, We-Rock, Scooby Doo Guess what, America? "We Love You" With a Rock and a Roll, and there's so much soul Yo, we'll be rockin' 'til we're a hundred and one years old Now, I don't mean to brag and yo, I don't mean to boast But I'm the host with the most that rocks shows coast to coast East-West meets best, 305, like, whatever, hops I format the rhythm to give you the whole big picture like its letterbox And, yo, it never stops – I'm that bunny energizin' Purgatori's under the pink, don't play boy scouts when I'm exercisin' But, I digress I press the bench for time, your deadlines make me late Don't stall to sell me a quarter pounder for $6.50, yo, cause that ain't worth the wait I'm wizzin' on your click, and still you insist I'm on your dick You're just a sparkle-puss, like David Copperfield's hookers are Magic Tricks Imagine this: you're smokin' cannabis while I'm becomin' the man at this Amateur panelist, plan to turn purple like an amethyst In a world with no Quartz, basketballs, laws, or gems To which it applies, the moment I visualize the bitter demise of them I hit 'em when eyes are blind to minimalize their literal lies, and then I sit and I fiddle with the rhymes they've crafted and they get shafted in the end Ask the question Who got the rhythm? I'm comin' off like Janet's panties Ever since 1814, and gratefully she don't wear Grannies 'Cause that's deader than Jerry Garcia, but via his fans I need a fix To crack the heads of these self-pipe-tootin', lyrical bitches suckin' dicks You're fixed [Chorus] Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Publicly overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, publicly overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Publicly overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, publicly overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed [Instrumental Break] Tonedeff, ninety-X [Verse 3] MCs are fixed but never mended, they get blue in the face And that be, like, true in the case where there's no space for gravity "I Breathe Deep", 'cause the malady that salary's the strategy Of the modern rap academy saddens me Studied the anatomy of musicality where critics are the analogy observed Don't give a shit about the Comp-U-Serve You virtually can't escape the net reality casts Because my web be worldwide, better believe I got my sign-on your ass I be that prodigy that raves onlines of text in America I still refuse to be your fuckin' cartoon character 'Cause, babe, I keep it pure So, maybe if my death was premature, then I'd be sure to win an award And you can quote that from the source, I criticize my critics Shit, it must've broken down some doors, 'cause now we minimize the limits That's set inside us by the cynics; and those who wanna mimic this with tricks Get diminished down the River of Styx 'Cause you're fixed [Chorus] Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Critically overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, critically overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated Niggas be fixed Critically overrated Niggas be fixed Creatively castrated, critically overrated And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy Niggas be fixed [Outro] Yo, check it out now (Check it out now) And it don't stop, ha (ha) One-two, this is how we do, RBM crew, non-stop Ninety-what? Ninety-what? Ninety-[?] Everybody worldwide (Baby-baby) Street life poetry (Street life poetry) Check it out (Niggas be fixed) Ha Check it, ha Feel it, baby (Feel it, baby) Check it out, ha Ah, yeah