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Well it's the rap beautician |
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The facts you listen |
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I blast through rhythms like hash through your system |
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True in love and wisdom |
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Well off and witty |
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Using God's sleeve to wipe the hell off the city |
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See my elegance, dining on the periodic tablecloth of elements |
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The universe designs my intelligence |
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Drop science down a bottomless pit |
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Run swift do a handstand on pyramid tips |
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The sun splits the waterfront causing prismatic effects |
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Butterflies come alive to have sex |
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Birds fly out of a top hat slow |
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To join the brilliance of wilderness and soar through the Congo |
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Speed the convo through colors and shapes |
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My word choice is turquoise I love to create |
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My art hurdles over the clouds of dark purple |
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Red mixes yellow and blue in sharp circles |
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Paint splashes over your conscious like canvas |
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Colors jump out of the body to form branches |
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Psychedelic images flash like avalanches |
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Illustrate skill with the quill to build stanzas |
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I use pens like hallucinogens |
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So who can pretend, my music ain't a beautiful thing |
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A suit of a king |
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Deserving of the jewels and the rings |
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That only flatters my appearance like the tulips in spring |
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I'm cool with the gods, I could never use the facade |
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Of a musician to celebrate hate and abuse women |
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The beautician is back, Humble Magnificent wizard of rap |
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Throwing tuxedos on the wax |
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[-VERSE 2-] |
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The numbers they fall off the clock midnight |
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At the museum an apple is stolen out of a still life |
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You see 'em, stand by the mirror with no reflection |
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A point five appears on your shirt for half stepping |
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Scientists explain that they no longer know things |
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A dog takes a shit on the floor and grows wings |
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Planets of the solar system now trade places |
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Statues of national fame become faceless |
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Great lakes evaporate and leave no traces |
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The man with the moustache reveals the three aces |
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Briefcases open to expose sheet music |
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The thief hears the piece performed and weeps to it |
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Master violinist plays the solo one-handed |
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The notes on the page become ants that run frantic |
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Slowly the symphony dissolves into noise |
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The baron with the glass eye sweats and loses poise |
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A scene is made, the cheese brigade is summoned |
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The man in the mask walks fast and starts running |
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An officer fires a pistol in black apparel |
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But instead a lead red rose grows from out the barrel |
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The criminal escapes through a disappearing door marked "Beauty" |
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Exiting the world forevermore... |
