My Thoughts

Today I released a new song called My Thoughts. It recycles Twista’s Wanna See Em Buss beat off of his album Category F5.

You can check it out here: http://www.thesixtyone.com/#/epiqsnax/song/My+Thoughts/72868/ also contains a download link.

Lyrics:

S-Substantiality, that’s what this game’s all about

And if you don’t like it, like Mike did, get some Fishscale, dude, like a trout

You got these Soulja Boys and GS Boyz and New Boys makin’ noise

But their lyrics are just rubbish, having absolutely no poise

This is insane, how high they’re getting on the charts

And how the hell they’re winning over the record label’s hearts

When there’s so much real talent being swept under the rug

That have a passion, while the “Boys” have a fascism, music’s a drug

I find it pretty funny how they’re rolling in the Benjamins

While I’m valedictorian, they’ll have to take French again

I’m in New England, they’re in Japan adventurin’

They date the supermodels, and I get Judi Dench again

(haha) Pull out the socket wrench, my friend

And do a tune-up on your brain, got more holes than donuts, Entenmanns

So here I am, letting my heart and brain out on paper

And this beat is so seductive, I just hope that I don’t rape her

(Chorus) [X2]

You don’t wanna hear my thoughts

Cause they’re a string, so convoluted into knots

This music here, my release, not using lines older than the movie Grease

If this music were a blanket, it’d be softer than a fleece

Obviously, for those pop rappers, the glove doesn’t fit

But there’s unequivocally, absolutely no way I’ll acquit

They are charged for first-degree murder of hip hop

And my thoughts are we execute them, time for chip-chop

And for those who stick up to them, I will bet the nation

That they’re 100 times worse than this here Alphabetization

But the thing is, they’ve got a thousand times more listeners

So what you gotta do is tell your parents, tell your sisters

Spread it round, like syphilis, tell your homeys 17’s rippin’ this

Grippin his mic, flippin it like, pancakes and he’s whippin this

Like it’s cream, like Wu-Tang, trey-to-the-six Chambers

I believe I got the W here, like the 97 Rangers

But wait! That’s not all! I’m sounding like a ShamWow commercial

One more thing, and this thought’s hot, like a Fire Marshal

You don’t have to bottle up your feelings, man, just let them go

And this is how I do it, through this music, it’s what I chose.

(Chorus) [X2]

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