[Verse 1: Clout]
If y'all are T-Swizzle, I can be J.T. Swift
Eminent poet bringing s**y back like J. T., b**h
Northern lights, Christmas Kush, and morning lights
Put me to sleep -Lucifer- I was born from night:
Born to might, born to write., born in a flight
To the top of the top. I am the cream o'-the crop
And the harvest smells deliciously malicious
I am a problem you can't solve with petitions
Ignition, I am the catalyst of the occupation
(a generation plagued by past dissertations)
“Aren't we all making profit? Things I sell, don't you go cop it?”
Spill in the Dow- janitor, teach these idiots to mop it
Polluting the airwaves, sight still scares me, revolution-
Aries simultaneously streaming to Blackberries
Horoscopes can't gauge the horror of my scope
And can't match the wisdom of the Homer of my Pope
sh** got real, or is it a ‘still-as-fake-as-ever' deal?
Look at me, I've never seen music played on MTV!
The Hills and The City selling dreams to vulnerable teens:
“You're pretty, and would make a fabulous fashionista,”
On top of your 5 shifts at Starbucks as a barista…
“But at-least-chyea 8 dollar caramel mocha's free.”
f** that, demand a cup of tea brewed with c**a leaves
You're selling your life away anyways, might as well go the full way
Plus it'll help you lose weight, and make you cool like Kurt Cobain
Bullet in the head, and, one in our hearts
We're dying -Tragically too- and hip hop's not art?
LOL, fluidity reminiscent of Wonton Soup
Sounds more handicapped like a Joe Swanson Snoop
Dogg, but I'm not a skeptic, I try to be optimistic
Heads up evangelicals, please try to be realistic
Tyranny o'erthrown by the hand of man;
Guy's face covers man's mask in my master plan
But we ain't blowing up sh**, ‘specially the mainstream charts
Listening to the radio is like buying all your sh** at Wal-Mart
Redistribute the wealth at least go to a Target
This ain't slang mane, I heard the beast calls it argot
But I can't stand all this babbling about Babylon
I've got the throne, y'all just another Absalom
Spasmodically Biblical, catastrophically cyclical
Moderately individual, a modernity of visuals…
Jesus rebuked heresy, but now his followers are Pharisees
We must find parity between prosperity and charity
Sincerity is the only way to the rarity of clarity
Sardonically and ironically, that's sonic me
20 drinks deep, and I don't even like gin and tonics, B
And there's no stopping me as long as some one drops the beat
I'll be there, I swear, Sampson with a full head of hair
Like Shad says: “fakes keep fronting but I just don't care.”