This be the dawning of
The age of dead water
Station every B-boy fragment
Somebody live enough to bust through the belly
Put a fist up
This is a right-now generation murdered by the fanbase
This is adored by the writers
Dead water
With a still-force activated
No, I'm not feeling alright
Formed by the village of badges and bad karma
Punched by the stagnant waters
Leaked through the fickle whack
But by the window sill's three nickles in a piggy bank
Honor with a hint of funny stomach from the hunger pains
Splashed automatic B-boy with big visions
In a matchbox apartment
Adjacent a crooked starship
Spoon fed a nation in millions, the only remedy:
Nine deadly planets with a bullet-riding centerpiece
Take me through the gates!
I'll find the stink of burning
Find the hottest slacker in a visionary costume
Con-artist
Kamikaze conduct
Gone for a second
Till divinity who*ed herself to disaster
I recognize the takers
By the mechanical stagger
As opposed to the skip of
Big Brother
Badge slasher
Theologies who seem to keep the jukies caffeinated
Like a Mad Hatter had to sleep now
Ask after
Calibrate the happy-scale
Weigh me soaking wet
With a mouth full of dead ideas and see if it tips zero
Stripped ego
Tall stories of brawl glory
I'll be God while you're still living life on a full 40
Or maybe I'll be grimacing, homes
Poor, broke and lonely
Hidden by my billygoat beard and cardboard monstrosity
I drink a bad gla** of gumption
Not bad meaning bad
But, bad meaning ... disgustin'
Wild child
Activator
Activate
Sludgin' up the dungeon for an accolade
And while one documented wild murder
Flamed through the city with a wild merger
Woke up and a wild-style burner!
Space-case
Boombox
Hate-tapes
No lemonade breaks
Sweat and no cheddar in Labor Days
Right now
I'm here to break apart a Bic's piston
Plus my "straight and narrows" got more curves than a Russ Meyer vixen
Spitting sob stories to confront my thick addictions
I'm the dirty basin with the graves of Salem witches
Driving my stake through the face of painstakin' business
Checkmate
Wanna scream misery?
Better breath-take
Out of sleep
Lifted off the botany
Little Jackie paper and a magic dragon sack of dirty shrubbery
I be the ugliest version of paranoia
Kingpin set in motion
By the secondhand pressure
Some get excited when the Sun folds under
Some get excited when the summer hits the pavement
Some get excited when the bullets hit bones
But I'm board
I'll escape through the train yard
And sleep till it's broken
(Same old) 30x
This be the settling
A dead of warm water
The mobile B-boy function
Somebody mad enough to cut apart the curtain
Put a fist up
This is the dagger in the 88 magnificent memorial
This is the heater to a movement
Dead water
When a broke vision's got sparks
No, I'm not feeling alright
This be the windshear
Dodgin' dead water
A solitary b-boy wonder
Somebody fresh enough to reinvent the court
And put a fist up
This is the chalky outline around a cla**ic break-beat
This is an agitated moment
Dead water
With a burnt reason beaten ugly
No, I'm not feeling alright