Beans (Anti-Pop Consortium) - Toast lyrics

[Verse 1] Can bliss outlast a lie you live? For even shadows must stay true to the shade I don't explain, I have spoken the facts As I understand them to be Was it worth it to the breeze that blows all the smoke You want, I see through it The sickness at the core of your being Now bite your tongue, you won't talk to my tell For all those who know the least ain't got the most to say The only way to treat snakes is for belts, boots And half-a** quotes and quotes that can tell I made in every letter With [?] carries a club for theft prevention The heart fled and resound as your chest fried In which to show your wrists timid As a canary at a cat show convention Your loss, my goal, my gain First cla** compared to second hand third race Though within lines like fish bait That's water under the bridge that you not fixin' to paddle And the flood bursts [?] like full bladders And every head is in a [?] bubble Repulse and twist from the body With scars like the moon on the pebble skin of the sea Characters aren't MC's MC's a character whose emotion through intellect drives a spirit to grant one The will to invent Through honesty and agony is not a question of real If that motivates one to rob mics, it can't be wrong That makes the battle worth the fight That makes the matter worth the [?] That makes the question to the answer That makes reason riddle inside the rhyme In his mind, the fool can be a king Bald but hair-raising ballbeam Freaks beats like freaks between sheets No frontier I fear, more fun The root can*l my heart conceals no lie But keeping real is your alibi You'd rather kiss the frog who embraced the promise But never given the guarantee You could turn into a prince Now your reward is a soul for ransom But brick shoes won't break my stride I chose to fled Got away instead [Hook x4] (White Plains x3) I take a cozy little trip On the metro north trains The blue lines of Westchester I got off at White Plains [Verse 2] If the conscience is the dead speaking out from the grave Instead do we bury the dead alive? Of crawling disease, MC's on the face of the Earth With the grave is the only cure most never knew fear From my voice to its ears Like ghosts & spirits come in dreams With no Earth to walk on Alone, the silence forever to moan like they went through lifeless dreams Bears more screams than damned souls in torment Played by the joined sounds of MC's falling apart As the stars and their eyes are stolen Disa**ociated for closely applied perceptions not doing the same thing Expecting something else to happen So pardon me for protruding through the ring Your chest is blowing circles that curve a crescent moon That diminishes at the rising line Blending into the scenery of other objects That compete for the benefit of your first attention Because it doesn't have to I will always stand alone, on microphones Putty in my palm once I ma**age your cortex Melted on the tip of the tongue Then watch it sizzle like bacon Every MC or ice cone gets last licks Lyrics inserted like [??????] to the beat of a chest of a primate All natural, but naturally annoying Drowning in your spit is getting kinda boring Thinking you the next god gift to emcee Cause all you do is kick styles free off the head Being stuck like kittens in a tree Pain is living in an illusion that shatters once gla** slippers don't fit Talent not territorial Then scan the area worldwide with eyes on international thighs To the place that chose to fled Where we can rest our heads [Hook x5] (White Plains x3) I take a cozy little trip On the metro north trains The blue lines of Westchester I got off at White Plains