Baba Brinkman - 024 lyrics

[Verse 1: Gripp] It's not easy being the best at sh**. That type of stres'll Make Professor X want to get an exorcist just to get a rest from it I've always been a success; anything less than this is a pestilence A pessimist, yes. But the pressure presses me to be excellent You're looking like a mess next to this, inhaling asbestos While having incestuous s** and birthing one of Uncle Fester's kids You're unimpressive. I'm restless. 'Til I'm senescent I'll be treating these sentences like they were deadly weapons Uh... most of these wack rappers' topics are so myopic Stop it. That's too easy for me; that's why I knock it Put away your dollar stacks, bling-blings, and holler backs Thought I could master postgraduate math but not your style of rap? No I'm iller than most that rap in the game I want to be the dopest one with letters after his name That's just my mindset. So dig deep; there's no telling What you could find next. Might uncover design specs for Skynet [Verse 2: Jack of Co.Z] Copy that. Track Terminator at your service Pop up on your time map, murder hip-hop. Rap deserved it Jack Bauer by the hour, k**ing rap insurgents Quick I'm Anakin turning to Darth Vader. You can't preserve me Gripp put me on this sh** 'cos he knew I'm slick at bragging And to most you hip-hop listeners that means I'm sick at rapping b**h I'll redefine your wackness quick. My rhyme scheme's thick. I practiced it I don't use my money, man; I use my mind to mack a chick A little alliteration, my literature's amazing I get it at you, I spit it at you. Better cover your face when I spray it Spit flames, I blaze it, but Gripp told me to chill For this tape I'ma tell it to you real I don't trap. I don't front. I don't k** But ya'll consume those similes like pills So now I'm out in Hollywood tryin'a thrill With this mic. Got that sh** that you like I'm tryin'a do [Verse 3: Baba Brinkman] Don't call me "conscious rap", 'cos I'm not just that I'm not gonna drop a philosopher's name in a clause and claim that it stops with that Suffering Socrates your brain is succotash. It's soft In fact, I'm consciousness explained, the-physical-basis-of-consciousness rap So step back as I kick a lyric with the verve Bittersweet symphonic words until the shift in perspective occurs And when it matures like government bonds, I'll pull the anchor up And drift away. Your mental state is Detroit bankrupt Like Scientology science policy. So try and follow me The Spaghetti Monster is flying calmly behind my anthology My psychology's villainous. The beat is a victim; I'm probably k**ing it Adaptive, psychopathic, obnoxious, and polysyllabic They call me a novelty 'cos I'm rapping above the average dunce That's fine. Some novelties blow up. sh**, so were mammals once I couldn't dumb it down if I tried. But I still learned how to survive By seeking out a like-minded crowd of rhymers proud to be out of their minds [Verse 4: Gripp] I'm super hot; compare me to liquid tungsten Your output ain't the same; I must be a different function When the kick is thumping, I'm ripping up any interruption So you'll be giving up before rushing to fisticuffs And I'ma lift them up. The zeppelin flow is so ineffable The technical sk** it takes to dissect you? I possess it, yo Look, I know rappers who think they're ready for camera light But can't handle the task of learning to use their sampler right So stay back all of you Sajaks and Vanna Whites I will go bananas from Boston down to Atlanta. Hype I got the crew out in the 'burbs going ape sh** I'm talking way out in the cut like a platelet So what you say to this? Ain't it just so amazing? The type to turn your basement out like it's a f**ing gymnasium I'll pack a stadium like my cranium full of facts Like titanium smashed so fast right through your wooden bat