Kyle "Keyz" Davidson - Mural lyrics

[Produced by Wiz Buchanan, Keyz and Quality Kid for GITM] [Verse] We're all chemicals, vitamins and minerals Vicodin with inner tubes, wrapped around the arm To see the vein like a chicken on the barn Top Cat chat, let's begin another yarn That's flying saucer cheese, or is it chicken parm'? But roosters don't fly like boosters don't buy So what powers cowards to get them to the top Just to fall asleep listening to Bach? The ribbon in the sky is the riddim that I drop Dribbling the eye across the prism of a clock That lacks meaning, but racks up stacks of fat reading They catch Chief and wrapped up plants from trap dealings Now what's a coffin with a scratched ceiling? And what's the talking without the match feeling That's buried living? And cherry picking Every lemon from your berry system Then proceed with the pack feeding When I was young I had visions of another world Sneaking looks at the p**n stash of my brother Hurl Incense smoke made vortices and other curls Casting calls from p**n films and ad space for rubber girls I like my pancakes cut in swirls Moroccan moles and undercover squirrels I like cartoons, southern cities with large moons Faith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art booms Apologize for my weird mix What taste like hot dogs and tear drips And looks like pantomime and clear bricks And smells like shotguns and deer piss They on their hunt, kind of salty that I'm going hard First part of a party, that I throw in parts One minute you're playing pool, next minute you're throwing darts But that's how you do with a party that you throw in bars I run the Gambit like I'm throwing cards From popular mechanics to overdosing hearts Paint cold pictures like Nova Scotia landscapes Nerd gang, make Mandelbrot sets when we handshake A word game back up plan that can dam lakes Backup the wordplay playing at the man's states Means I can still be the man if the dam breaks And when demand brakes I'm reflectious, what they can't face My peers will still treat the mirror like it's a fan base The unfettered veteran, the eagle feathered man of medicine That hovers above cities like weather men And maybe weather woman Whatever better to tell ya weather comin' I prefer girls to reign all over the world And not rain like, rain man or rain like rain dance Or rain like a slight chance of rain when it's raining Or rein like deer slaves to Santa Claus sleigh man But reign like Queens that reign over made man And not Queen like Queen k**er, rhapsody bohemian Queen But Queen, like white glove wave hand, and not wave hand, like it's a heat wave So you make a fan by waving your hand, I'm talking wave, like you saying, "Hey man!" And not hay for horses, and hoarse is like you almost voiceless You gotta treat your vocal chords, like it's a fortress And treat every single one of your words, like reinforcements And especially when you're recording Cause that's the portion that's important When I was reporting, that I was poor,but now I'm more than (poor) It's still hooker heels, on my sugar hills, and sweet spots Crying shames, make margarita rims, from cheap tops Deep plots, in floor to ceiling windows, for my peep pots A little scene, with the sickle swings, to make the wheat drop And a hundred words, for them hummingbirds, that like to eavesdrop And fan out, like peaco*ks, with a parakeet that beat box So the sun rise, when the beat drops, and the sun dies, when the beat stops... Then it unties, then it relocks, then it relapsed, then it detox Then heat back, like a heat pack, on his knee caps of the weak spot Cause he want what we got, like yeah Then forge poetry, like a young ornery Morrissey Then spit it to the golden locks thots, who like their porridge all watery Not scorching, nor sorbet-y From the steel orbitings, sorcerer, sorcery Coming down gorgeously, just like a Stacey Dash waterfall A more torturing, a water-boarding, Barbie doll A river of women, like a Brazilian Carnival Swimming in feminine bikinis, made out of Barbasol Somebody give them the volleyballs If you love her, don't ever send her to Mally Mall's Homie, if she lonely she might end up in Macauly's claws Coming out the closet over goblets, down at Madri Gras The fame, champagne, walk of shame lobby call My rap position, was black condition, and activism Ammunition for abolition, missions attacking systems But they're not apt to listen, unless it's dropping on Activision Are we apps, or are we bodies filled with apparitions? Operating applications, stuck inside an Apple prison Chicken hack, and download updates that lack religion Or are we more... ...Than soil tainting, disloyal changelings Preoccupied with boy and Goyle chasing, and foiling other's royal saintings? I sit back and watch the world, through eye holes, in my oil paintings Uhhh! Ain't nothin' to it, but to do it Unless you Virgin Mary, nothin' do it but the truest Believe all that, unless you Jewish Life is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurus And I feel like a missionary, to a cli*oris The water bearer, heir of traditions, that I swear to never change My chair position, or conditions of my porridge Submission for sedition, against the religion of a chorus Keep them golden weave thieves, out the mothaf**in' forest As I perform a nerve storm, I prefer my pictures in word form Bury the hatchet, like how a bird born As I paint cold pictures, like Kool-Aid facing condensation Having conversations with flavorful combinations Slave to my concentration, so that's OJ da Juiceman, meets OJ with two hands And two gloves, that's too snug, to judge who was, who drew blood And, Lupe look at all these toucans, in a cemetery full of tomahawks Giving middle fingers, to the pigeons doing somersaults Road runners don't fall off cliffs, they run across Anomalies by the colony, flukes by the reservoir Wildin' pursuers end up as poofs, on the desert floor Levitating youths, who know the truth of where the fountain hides Buccaro roof painting tunnels, onto the mountain sides A thousand parts, a pound of heart, an ounce of eyes Announcing now, the doubt in mouth, pronounces a count of lies Chocula Counts, by the count of five Refrigerator roof, full of animals and monsters Incinerator chutes and the manual for Contra Assorted memories from my childhood Absorbing energy from the wild woods Electronic combat Konami sign contract Chinese chalk k**ing cucarachas on contact Chicago, spray gun aficionado Efficient spitting bridging divisions isn't Chicano Who's the Boss? If it isn't Alyssa Milano Dudikoff, ninja mission into the Congo Polarize envy of the older guys Black obi, shinobi hittin' Kenno in the face with all my throwin' knives Sub-zero guiding, hiding, riding in the pack as well Sound village, Leaf village, wolf spirit, magic spells Dodging rain and catching hail Faces need samurais to catch the L Special research vessels made for catching whales Filet-o-fish ships sea-shepherded peppered with extra sails Rewrite history, liberty needs a better bell Maybe harder irons and carbon fibers that never fail Smarter science mixed with a odd alliance of fairy tale Or maybe just a metal pail you hit with steel tools To announce that you've had enough and dropping out of SEAL school Just like trout jumping out their house to let their gills cool Cuba-scuba couldn't take the temperature of my sk** pool Yeah, I said it feels cool to k** fools Slipping through the cracks like when you try to grill gruel Techno Viking water bottle and not following pill rules Will have you off the throttle when you should be modelin' chill mood Roller skater maker or are you just cobblin' wheel shoes Overweight taster of kings food that k**s crews Oblivious feather-weight baker who autographed cakes whenever his quill moves over your milieu Simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel groove with the abbot, practising stillness Real still til' he realize his realness Defeat Samsara, achieves nirvana and brilliance Yeah!