WINTER IN SPACE

Thirtyseven? is he the monster emcee
that speaks impossibly deep on Mediocrates beats?
yuh....the true and living, consuming human superstitions
cuz changing minds takes a highly smooth magician

crazy thought: maybe every Sapien's a baby God
but our brains are flawed so we never break the bond
locked in the cage -- a generation rotting away
on a small blue planet with oxygen chains
take it and run, fight to stay crazy and young
dance naked, spit fire and aim for the sun
if memory lies, I guess I gotta sever my ties
and murder who I think I am whenever I rhyme
infecting the minds of young kids questioning why
all the grown ups are so fucking empty inside
I was in the back seat when the acid hit
had me spitting bad dreams into a bag of chips
like....most monkeys obsess about sex
and do anything they can to forget about death
I drop a track with nothing but awkward facts
then ask the herd animals to holler back
so much centrifugal force at my physical core
I can walk past your house and break shit on your porch
it's a transmission to space, deep in the galaxy
where fans listen for days and speak telepathically
look, I'm not asking them to rescue me
....just collect all these humans and then set me free

so when you get abducted, they're just gonna laugh at ya
like "look at what you did to your own Mother Africa!"

it's been five years since I talked to God
doing vodka shots with a broken walkman on
and he told me that there is no "deeper meaning"
....all this beautiful bullshit keeps repeating
way back before the rappers had a formula down
for exactly how each verse and chorus should sound
at some point in your little search for facts
words collapse, under pressure, nerves can snap
to those who know how it feels hitting bottom
with a fake moustache and real drinking problem
my flow is equipped with elements of truth
cuz most of this shit only exists relative to you
if you believe in straight lines, then I'm crazy as hell
so I don't even waste time with explaining myself
just meditate on everything I say with a mic
and cast a long shadow cuz my langauge is light
burning words onto blank paper at night
and providing sceince majors with the basis of life
incredible sex, from the second we met
until our letters connected like a chemistry set
I saw the game, said fuck it, and walked away
and I didn't stop going until I got to space
...these monkeys are totally defective
so I look at politics from an orbital perspective
all a war means to me is dead children
and the same five banks make another ten billion
since money is nothing but murder and blood
as soon as I get cash, I convert it to drugs
the end of the world just came and went
and we're all still living at the same address

Thirtyseven? is he the monster emcee
that speaks impossibly deep over Mediocrates beats, yuh
the true and living, consuming human superstitions
cuz changing minds takes a highly smooth magician