[Intro Edgar the Beatmaker]
Yo, yo
[Verse 1: Edgar the Beatmaker]
I obliterate illiterate fools
I'm re-alliterate my political views
Misinterpret-ate the critical truce
Spread across the globe for the cynical news
Miles Davis choose drop
Without original blues
Born as a lyrical muse, but I'm dazed and confused
And amazed at what we can create as a crew
Surrounded by a purple haze, became stale and blue
Little bit of Al Greene, they'll be jailing you
We mailing tunes, across the globe cuz England's a b**h
I'm skinning a spliff, envisioning bliss
Love living the risk
If you're burning by the lights, you ain't discovering this
For my mad fives kids, [?]
This monkey went to heaven, clocked heaven with sh**
So came back to hell enough to learn a lesson, to spit
But really what's the worth when is a [?]
The best curse of d**h, now I'll be selecting the list
Perfecting the need to resist, to [?] I exist
Reminiscing, music making, to help, making me live my life
Bit of trouble and strife
From the pigs with their sticks and knives
List of lies, of the institutionalized
Subsidize or they subside the pub fights
To [?] the [?] they haven't done right
Clock them industries, just forgot how to love life
Send em' well, from [?]
And f** life, and tough times
It's coming up
I love her, but [?] gotta f** minds
[Bridge: Slam the Poet/Cecil B Demented]
Tuck your shirt inside, I'm the big one
The switch has [?]
Screaming, "d**h's not the end"
Cuz endings are beginnings that have yet to be written
So seek wisdom, and flee to money prison
Cuz the queen's head, has been said
Makes your world turn, but it could make your world burn
If you don't learn to treat [?] secondary
Too many people be settling very serious scores
Indulging material flaws
But don't hate the effect, hate the cause
Don't hate the people, hate the laws
And if you want to see change then open your doors
To the corpse on the corner and just greet the new dawn
These the words of the dead beat poets
Shot my eyes, let my head stay
Show is never too late to make peace
Cuz peace is the fern to aid the speech
To blaze trees, and dream daily
Of the feds leaving the streets
So we're walking to the people's beat
See the writing on the wall, it spells MVC
And the prophet at the moment is the STP
I rep 20 B.C. and Edgar the Beatmaker
He's the lyrical savior
[Cecil B Demented]
Cecil B Demented, Slam the Poet
Scam and wretched
[Slam the Poet]
We done, all the young disrespected