Non-Prophets - Fresh lyrics

Yeah... just chilling in the closet... yeah still in here y'all N-O-N-P-R-O-P-H-E-T-S is Stupid deaf N-O-N-P-R-O-P-H-E-T-S is Funky fresh Sage Francis... Joe Beats... The Non Prophets LP!!!..... This blood that runs through me for now flows for you For whatever year sounds best.. bringing it From the littlest state k**ing the mix tapes Keeping it nimble like fingers flipping through singles in milk crates Filthy like fingertips guilty of pilfering increments The beats to match a rappers pleading innocence Thinking this is going to be the best damn karaoke jam ever Ever since 3rd Ba** a devoted fan of Sam Sever Never really was a metal-head I'd settle the score With a remix instrumental of 'Never no More' Reppin' the cause of ill MCs Who like confusing metaphors with similes *so what you want sage?* To drop science in my rhymes *what you want sage?* To kick knowledge all the time *what you want sage?* To dis your posse... and my name up in lights, S-A-G-E [Joe Beats] I hang producers with my loops Watch me get loot [Sage Francis] I got more styles than a pedophiles got proofs In a van full of candy after one of their photo shoots Deflowering more virgins than Thurston's got polo suits Rocking golden boots on the road to the riches Got a poem that's cute called 'an ode to my b**hes' [Joe] Yo hold up, that ain't righteous! [Sage] Well a god didn't write this Although I'm told a rhyme is mold is that of his likeness (like thiiis) Don't you see how f**ing beautiful life is? How dare you waste it stuck in a cubicle with tight lips Stand up! Push out your chair, jump on your desk And if you've got a crush on your coworker... Touch her breasts! And if you hate your boss cause hes a s**er... Punch his chest! Pull his wig back with pimp slaps... crush his kicks Kick a hole in his computer pull the plug and then jet You're the goddamn man, motherf**er that's fresh [Hook] F-R-E-S-H Fresh, fresh, fresh F-R-E-S-H Fresh, fresh, fresh F-R-E-S-H Yo that's fresh! [Sage] Now the to-do list grew thin but I still haven't proven Myself to myself I done an album with Rick Rubin We have to keep slick rulin'! Don't romanticize your disease saying she keeps your dick drooling Check yourself for a genital wart scare Generals all prepare for chemical warfare My neighbors have identical lawn chairs One of them's violating (penetrating a fraud) Ain't no escape a automobile train or plane Swimming great lakes scaling mountain ranges or skating terrain Making cake doesn't make what you sayin' bang You can't make me relate, change your aims Cause the buck buck buck ... will call you shot callers s** s** s**... are you the dotcom-ers? I'm a writer, a poet, a genius, I know it I don't buy cheeba, or moet Ahhhhhh.... yeah Non prophets in your area y'all Sage Francis and Joe Beats letting you know... If I ever ever catch you drinking alcohol or smoking d** of any kind I will punch you dead in your melon motherf**er do not be smoking cigarettes in my breathing space