(Pt. 1: The Outbreak Intro) This is the outbreak mixtape, SO GREAT! Springsteen, Spirit in the Night, fingers in my cake! Contaminated, ‘bout to have an incident on 57th Supply chain in your face while the ’06 be revvin’ Don’t come between a man and his meal, that shit is real It’s getting desperate and desperation is not the feel It’s like going into debt to buy royal purple and amethyst Like so-called Christian patriots doxxing Black women activists Doxxing Black women activists ‘cause Black women be fighting this System that’s gaslighting them, shit-stem that always lied to them. This is the outbreak mixtape, SO GREAT! Springsteen, Spirit in the Night, fingers in my cake! Contaminated, ‘bout to have an incident on 57th Supply chain I’ll beat you with while the ’06 be revvin’ Don’t come between a man and his meal, that shit is real It’s getting desperate and desperation is not the feel It’s like going into debt to buy royal purple and amethyst Like so-called Christian patriots doxxing Black women activists Doxxing Black women activists ‘cause Black women be fighting this System that’s gaslighting them, shit-stem that always lied to them (Pt. 2: Soldier Scholars) Smith Foxe, the reincarnation of a legion of soldier-scholars Dualistically stellar like solar Castor and solar Pollux Or the Hero Twins, tag-teaming the legend heroines Seeding scores of demigods, intellectuals, and Bedouins The matrix of mythic-religious confusion is viscous While I spit associations and wind dissertations up to throw like discus Or boomerangs, the science advances and retracts, It’s elastic as fuck thanks to the tangled web of corrupt redacts The balance of progress and regression Is achieved through aggression by professions who can’t shake obsessions Then academics influencing thought, plus organic through lessons Emotion association enhances memory with strong impressions And basic motherfuckers can’t learn shit without that But when enabled, they’re proud of their ignorance, they tout that. But that’s who I grew up with, but no one else was stepping up to differentiate, and so I set myself apart It helped that they never showed me the love, so I stopped trying to fuck with that type The status quo was always overhyped That was my default state and so I played against type Because my mind was sharper than the knife I used to almost take my own life. At 14; I put it away but I still think back The pain and dysfunction crippled me emotionally, holding me back But now I’m never holding the crack, instead, I’m bold in the track I say what the fuck I feel, even if it’s older and wack. I got the gold in the sack, like Java programs and money, I’m holding the full stack, like Goldman and Sachs

This is for the youth with parents who are struggling From the top-down edicts by misguided leaders who are bugging But look intently at the sky, you might see God Or another Space-X shuttle trying to escape in broad Daylight, round of applause, leave the ground for a higher cause Sonic booms be the sound of reaching for the stars Atomic booms all around us, teaching us the scars Dystopian dreams abounding, screaming up at Mars Meanwhile, we recognize the universe in each others’ eyes It’s deep enough to anesthetize the perversity in each others’ lies I’ll overlook your bullshit if you see past mine We work together, one movement, we’ll get to cloud nine Out only true opps own the means of production and the All of the true cops who are bent on our destruction We don’t want the whole pie, just enough to build a competitive Economic structure like a gold mine But is it possible to extract value without exploiting the desperate We pay attention to the metrics of human investment I’m not the first with the idea, nor will be the last We’re patient down here at ground zero, we move together out the past. This is for the kids who are trapped inside the perception of those who hate them While back inside the trappings of home, they’re family degrade them See, I wrote love on my forearm at 14-age I teased the ink inside me outward with four steel blades Alone. I’ve had vivid dreams, smacked in the face Every stepfather I ever had, put him in his place Told him how I resented how he treated me and my moms, Now get the fuck up out my face before I touch my knife to your arms “But Smith Foxe, you’re such a pussy, how could you pull this off?” Lights off. My name is Smith. They call me Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe, Smith Foxe I got a lot of shit to say, blocks of bars on edited, committing verbal manslaughter, first degree murder, "premedited" [sic] I mean like with premeditation, premeditated, I'm throwing out unfettered energy flow like free meditation, this transcendental work goes deeper than transient dental work, inspires bars more bizarre than that Manson mental jerk, I rhyme weird, but your cipher still looks like a circle jerk, while if I had one, it would be like Stonehenge, put in that worky-work We all have a spirit of God and a demon inside us waiting for the taste of provocation like a heathen in silence void that holds potential for sanctification and violence psychosomatic proxy for the autonomy that's denied us love … withheld from those who need it the most shove … it down in the machine until I smell that burnt toast or until I leave and I purge it from coast to coast leaving broken hearts and lives in my wake until I’m ghost

Another day in the life of a fighter took down and risen they mispronounced my name and ban me to baste prison they tore into my flesh and found me longer than reason because they tore into my story, found me guilty of treason, these motherfuckers came with wicked and cruel intentions and framed us for their crimes and put our face to their transgressions because their system got them hooked up with blood money and pensions while they threw the destitute in dungeons for water boarding sessions they know a revolution’s over the horizon so they publish propaganda that we are terrorists and sympathizers They('re) pushing product, got us mixing up our enemies We are confused and gaslit and pushed out like Leah Remini We got bullied one time too many So then the propaganda machine will have their smear campaign ready but we've got to be the ones with backup waiting in the wings anticipate reprisal because our defenses sting they've got endless corporate media scratch to match but we've got a proletariat network ready to dispatch

We’re going to blow the spot melancholically Low frequency quantum chemistry, stoichiometry The balancing act of negativity and acidic velocity Oh, now we onto physics, what is this? Artistic “agnostity”! Know nothing of the stars in the upstate night sky of ScheNOCtody The modern-day nocturne in x-minor, the key structures a mystery Like the history of why there is no notes above G# Be sharp and see the reasons why I steady keep my E sharp Enharmonically F’ed, when I fail to establish the clef Musical palette is def when I see flatly the fabulous chef The dissonance that brings order to all the chaos Got you flies going helical, but can’t really see you like Kate moss My rhymes carry weight like people on cake boss And so the opposite of declining sovereignty of state laws Cause freedom it self no one agrees on the meaning So they divide us and plant doubt inside us while our rights they keep stealing I’ve got this rap shit locked down—Kate Brown I’m bringing this to every country, region, state, town Welcome to the end of the world, just set a spell And listen to these bars deeper than grown-up Jessica’s well Come to the water’s edge, gather and let’s hum To the tune of unity, we letting the song come Two bars at a time, bust couplets you can vibe to In two cars at a time, bust something you can ride to The placation of blue collar labor who got vacation needs The bourgeoise trickles down mere droplets so we can “hail to thee” End the propaganda that divides the working class again We are the currency, invest in ourselves, vested ’til the end Of the atomic clock full duration plus the Mayan calendar of Human inhabitance on Earth and in the cosmos of The things, the collection of the rings and of the fingers of the Galaxies, the millions of milky starlight wavelength melody sings the World is ending or just beginning, swirl free, Spiral transverse as these words transcend, transverse worlds When the left-hook-lesson comes it won’t be chorus-y I’m a rap-smith, Smith Foxe, and a Wesson, more Smiths than Morrissey Contorted reason order your thought disorder like Thorazine The horde of demons boarded the lord of heathens, quartered the scene Four corners seen the distorted beams of ornament queens Sordid dreams afforded to fiends for the glorious streams Chemical trails, opiate epidemical fails, Copious rails, crazy train to lazy brain, open the hails Communicate or ruminate, as long as you illuminate You’re proven hate is proven late and engineered like Steven Slate The even plate spin when you retrieve it from the active crate Just like the scene commits to tape with action and you snap the slate I’m about to hit the streets and pound the pavement, these motherfuckers faithless These motherfuckers faceless, their accusations baseless They accusations tasteless, Corona got their taste sense And can’t smell the death of 3rd order existence: 8th sense When string eleven ‘bout to give birth to a 12th, right? A whole other dimension—Tarantino writes Twelfth Night You got that chrome the flatten my dome? You cats lion I got mine from my apartment in London, call it my flat iron My stack giant, I stack tires all the way up to your black eyes From the react twice because you stack lies Affecting the overall negative charge you’re a cat-ion The screams at the event horizon sound cradle of filth—cats dying That’s that astro-physic-chemical connection and you missed it Science took you from cationic to catatonic, simplistic Never too basic or acidic, just a little caustic Rocking cars like Ocasec, or Hasidic Matisyahu, but toxic I wake up in the morning on a steady diet of old freestyles on the Wake Up Show, because I can’t wake up slow Then you got candy-rappers thinking they could make up flow But you’ve got to have the music in your heart laced up with soul. Wait.

Seventeen years since my last confession But seventeen tears since my last concession Seventeen fears gassed up as obsessions Seventeen peers masked up as reflections But they don’t recognize that they reflect the autocrat inside They don’t get the lies that spark internal thought tyrannicide Get inside, violate my mental equilibrium Upset the tide, desecrate my metaphysic lithium Death of balance, now I’m sent into a tailspin. The net of rescue that you sent me is rail thin. A male djin comes to me and whispers to me secrets And makes a dim trail of light and exits to the recess I keep it all inside until I purge it from my deepest And stream-of-consciousness it to the conscience of extremists. These are the economics of collective thought and energy Susceptible to alcohol perception from the Hennessy. Now are my verses making perfect sense? Or are they obfuscated by the serpent’s heads? I speculate that I’m the Chris Cornell of hip-hop. The Bixler-Zavala of rap, obscurely yours, Smith Foxe. That first verse ... was bullshat It was code for ... I don’t know that .... Moving toward the light at a breakneck ... velocity, fast as light space jet I can’t carry references like Sissy Spacek I also can’t marry actresses if I misplace checks What the fuck is up with my cerebral cortex? Consciousness is here and gone like an FM-eeral vortex. I said ephemeral Lipstick it up a notch like an effeminate Emeril Then hentai it up like a freaky anime general. We’ll get animated like a tentacle porn genital But it’s mental so we disseminate constructive viewpoints that’s seminal ::gasp:: rest, take a breath, let it out Is this another test? When in doubt, sweat it out. And Everything I’ve wanted for my whole life is right in front of me.

Church sound boy in the booth with the slide chick Jesus was my homeboy (boyfriend) but this my side chick Throwing in subversive words in place of the worship Pastor didn’t notice cause the songs ain’t worth shit Pastor didn’t hear the booth door went slide click Right before the music kicked off with the fly kick Right before the simple bassline and the sidestick Right before the lights went low on the light strip She say she wanna handle all of my business While the music got their hands up, the magic got her in it She say she wanna taste me to the last drop I say I want to taste her till the last drop She text me "She’ll sex me" The lust tastes so lovely The lights and the music and the build up kind of nervous Simultaneous release that’s is church service I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Skin so soft and the fragrance so rich And your rhythm so confident, I’m staring at your lips And the way that your hips move the space that’s surrounding Movements so fluid it’s so natural and astounding Face of an angel and that booty like the devil only cause of temptation, But I keep my head level Because I’m more like Neville, never Harry or Ron Weasley Wanna hear your depth of knowledge cause your energy just seized me We are making conversation and you’re making nerdy references And music your religion and you mention what your mission is Let’s write a song together listen how we harmonize Grand piano duet and I’m taken by those almond eyes Grand piano duet Energy go through it We moving in closer cuz the music moved us to it Find ourselves enraptured in the moment, rhythm got us Moving in the same space, same pace, till morning I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Pussy so wet wanna drink from the fountain Pussy so wet wanna slide into the fountain Glide from the south up north to the mountains I bring this offering because your temple is astounding Pussy so wet wanna drink from the fountain Pussy so wet wanna slide into the fountain Glide from the south up north to the mountains I bring this offering because your temple is astounding I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off I just wanna have it off Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though Only if you want it, though

Sig Sauer at my chest for six hours that’s the test Patient, wait you out for hours ’til they take you out with flowers Big flowers with them thorns touching you, tearing through Your skin veil making your scarlet rose petals gushing… Rhapsody in gray minor, exposing the truth with metaphors like Kevin Spacey fucking with gay minors Not one of the usual suspects made at the lineup But MJ in the ground and Cos' behind bars, Weinstein was tied up And Texas aristocracy had Sampson blind(ed) up and locked up New hair slowly locked up as they gather just to watch him fried up Talking to God one last chance so he can divine up Then he tore out the straps and electrodes fuck their whole shrine up I know that don’t make sense yet, but it will be an intense get The prison’s a temple where our elites worship their self-proclaimed righteousness, A shrine to their high position and xenophobic lack of respect, for cultures that they wrecked Plus ecosystems, they’ll spark in Ice Age that will turn Liberia into Siberia And in millennia start again in New Iberia Or Kings Landing but bowls-of-brown will be New dinosaur Birria Westerosi Pelosi oversee poverty more stagnant than Lake Superior And hella fatherlessness like all the sand in Syria. Look, someone’s hearing ya Through the Grapevine or the sprawling vines of the wistaria In hi-fi stereo like Def Leppard’s hysteria Sig Sauer at my chest for six hours that’s the test Patient, wait you out for hours ’til they take you out with flowers Big flowers with them thorns touching you, tearing through Your skin veil making your scarlet rose petals gushing Do not meddle in the affairs of vengeance Prisons or ghettos will request your presence 2200, take a trip to 22 gunning 22, take a trip from 22 stunting to 22 nothing At 22, I was nothing but a hopeless romantic So scared of being any less than perfect I was hopelessly frantic But that part of me died when I tried to drown in the Atlantic I no longer care about that I’m now hopelessly pedantic Chasing the devil by focusing on the details Embracing the rebels because they support the females And bullies screaming “unity” because they’re being called out I used to not be sure with some, but now they going all out Trying to endure with some, and now it’s just a fallout Cancel no one if they understand, otherwise, y’all out. Morning light sparkle from the shattered edge glass cracks Annoyed by barking from the home-installed glass packs Characters change but that human nature stays the same We try to breed out or lead out the basic-ness but it plays the game Chasing the devil in the details, ignore the habit Embracing The rebels, send you to the bottom of the lower Willamette We’re the condemned nebulas of stars that never loved us Generational trauma, progress is not above us or rather it’s not beyond us, they try to keep us fighting The schism they keep inciting, the game should really bond us Cause the fire we light ablaze, I love how it lights your face And the solemn moments when we memorialize the days when We shared connection with those deceased and disappeared we Lift our voices and sing, maybe they’ll hear it.

It’s chaotically hurting me, fraught with uncertainty Like DMX on the edge of the eternity Like RBX, Dr. Dre, Nas, and B-Real and KRS unified hip-hop to be steel Who got next? edify the culture, rip sets like LOX in the ring versus Dipset Team Diplomats, team Lox, all hip hop All love, all tough swagger, no Kid Rock Remember the times of 1200s and rhymes And Chuck D was the oracle of the turbulent times And white kids was feeling it, stopped fucking with Motley Crüe Started rocking with Native Tongues, Flavor Unit, and Marley, too Parents was not about it, felt threatened ‘cause it was darker Thought it would tear families apart like [name redacted] Taking their kids away, psychological home invasion They thought it was culture war, but really just education. My name is Smith Foxe, I rocks the Smith-hawks I rocks the hip box while y’all still Rick-box My name is Smith Foxe, still fucks with hip hop Still ... still. My name is Smith Foxe, we dodge the prick cops We might just rip cops until the shit stops We sing fuck the cops because this is hip-hop still ... still. Going extra apeshit with style like Bey and Jay Going extra in while y’all fade off the E & J Fuck it, I don’t need a beat, my voice will activate the space Lookit! I’m about to set the fire, evacuate the place Me and Skye going to the dealership Free Beamer long as nobody on that squealer shit Beekeeper letting loose the swarm on the viewership The sweetest honey residue and a rash of stings while we’re stealing shit Visualizations of violence, Miley Cyrus the virus, Con Air the musical, using comorbid wrecking ball silence Hannah Montana, anaphylactic, shockingly spastic Añejo, pop star w/ Trejo, runaway plane dynamic Dynamic microphone, signal transduction zone Suck it up, bounce it back, to the reflection zone DMT, the mirror that you see your reflections on Broke the exterior shell, and now your protection’s gone. Mental dissection’s goin’, mental infection gone My introspection, long, my astral sex is on Reaching out for real love before the connection gone And trying to bring the wisdom back before insurrection on! My name is Smith Foxe, I rocks the Smith-hawks I rocks the hip box while y’all still Rick-box My name is Smith Foxe, still fucks with hip hop Still ... still. My name is Smith Foxe unite at Smith rock Ignite the hilltops, and flip the flip top The world be lit hot cuz this is hip hop still ... still. I come hard academic like me mate from Gunchester at Hofstra Spark a resistance currently dividing the power like Ohm’s Law My stats are all over the place like the Mariners But what matters is the message that I bring like the carriers Some rappers on that shit that’s got no teeth And think that they’re killing it, but the people ain’t feeling it, like South Dakota on Juneteenth But find a way to keep it unique If I could David Lynch it off the top, and follow Mulholland Drive up to two peaks I meant twin, but maybe I could win Despite the stupid fucking business degree to which I’m locked in It’s meaningless, like sex with your heart out but your crotch in Expensive mistake like the Olympic bomber in Boston (you had the wrong man) The similes I could get lost in Throw in some ketamine and get tossed in, don’t even think about what it’s costing I got this pain in my head that just won’t go away It makes my eyes twitch, the pressure switch because I’m a stowaway I’m mile high now and I think I’ve got the bends Because last night I went down deep into my girlfriends Yes plural, you’re-a not comprehending like I’m talking about the rural juror, yeah, 30 rock references unending My belly’s fat so my ghetto mating call’s louder than hell Like if Kenison played Tracy Jordan, but my kinda loud wont sell My dresser is my suitcase and I live in hotels Because I’m rocking shows on street corners from Stayton up to Hopewell And nowhere in between or beyond Can’t even rock the spot the chronically ignored be on So I got my work cut out for me, if I wanna be a superstar like Molly Shannon Gotta survive the disrespect from my peers like Nick Cannon I’ll rock my weird-ass rhymes until the lights go out, bringing Every ounce of heat and I might go out swinging Till I dial it down real light with nickel bag purchases I am real white so I guess I gotta bring Nickelback references So I don’t know if it’s worth saving me, I’m on the ledge of the 18th story looking at a photograph, it’s how you remind me that my rockstardom was all made up I had to fit it all in one bar so I can get it the fuck out of the way And keep it missing y’all until another day My sense of humor so thin like a skeleton Jimmy Fallon I got love for the culture tho my melanin really challenged You got it wrong like pronouncing chipotle “chipoltee” And you were long forgotten by hour 48 like Nick Nolte Probably cause ALD accelerate Lorenzo‘s dementia But the next generation knows not because they’ll forget you In Absentia Like Joe Biden forgot the refugee kids in cages And Donald Trump forgot the history written in pages Republicans and Democrats ignored wisdom of sages And weaponized the seed of distrust and made it contagious I’ll Leave you like Christians on Sunday morning diners, no tip no perspective on this era like Imenhotep

(Pt. 1: PeniLoFir) I stand up for the jokers and the closeted ropers Like Norman Fell, and that’s a reference so dated it’s like when the Normans fell. So welcome to Stormin’ Norman’s hell, gay conscientious objectors and the grown-up children who desert storm left with no protectors And who protect us from economic Hannibal Lecters? From the human animal sector, ectoplasmic electors A.K.A. slime balls and wild cards and nine balls and pine moss you scrape off the pine bark they reside on We got lied on, but fuck it, got life to live so slide on And slide away like Oasis sang a million refrains in rhyme form Who rhyme from the heart? Time to line up the arc Watch the line up get lined up and fire up the spark We fire up the dark, we line up the marks Til we eye up and tie up and knife up the narcs It took a shiny blade just for you to close ya mouth Mista chatterbox is outta fucks to give, now goin south I hate the violence, Id rather choose silence But my fam comes before the order of the ruling nihilists (Pt. 2: Real Litty) I take a piss so I can drain all this negative energy out of me Then I weigh myself to see if I measure up to reality I give at least two fucks because it’s so good it bears repeating, repeating Like Juliana Theory hear me and you got that feeling Hyundai sonata music, bump this in your JVC Because even through shitty speakers you’ll feel what this needs to be I drink IPAs because I’m hipster as fuck Five years after the lazy irony clock ran out but now I’m stuck In the past like conservative megalomaniacs And white Portland rappers copyin G-funk and trap and rapping bout 20 sacks … Yeah I said it And if you don’t think it’s about you, it’s probably not so just forget it I used to make trap beats before they knew trap beats And west coast boom-clap beats add classic boom-bap beats As a kid I lacked beats, I wrote my rhymes in the backseat while riding through the back streets, no iPad apps to stack beats Just my voice and imagination and a Casio keyboard With a cheap mic on the speaker feeding into a tape: record! No money to justify coppin a multitrack so I tracked my voice on the second tape over first tape track Like Conor Oberst if Commander Venus was cassette tape rap Low-key mischievous magic that would make Professor Snape snap Hogwarts references slither in through the escape hatch Don’t get real shitty because this is real litty, take that Like a raven when it swoops to claw the worm from out the haystack And Hufflepuffs right through the door with the Griffin so he could taste that That’s the shit I come up with in sinsemilla Leviosa Nonsensical visions of Aston Martin Testarossas Me and wifey, east coast trip, iced tea from Wawa And Sheetz nachos then my wifey morphs to Lady Gaga Hanging with Mr. Cooper giving birth to nebulas Lighting up the night sky so brilliant and it’s fuckin fabulous!

I give four whole fucks My power will be complete when I find four horcrux Tone Loc’s steel jaw, Bushwick Bill’s glass eye Common’s heart and Immortal Technique's mind Combine all the pieces together to make the perfect MC Combine like Voltron, leave your cipher completely empty Like the Olympic Carrier destroyed on the wrong day But I yelled like Kara Thrace, “we're going the wrong way!!!” and threatened the paranoid presidential stand-in, brandishing my loaded weapon, round was kept in the chamber and I aimed for the head. Politics are acidic, trust eroded and pitted Against bias and emotions inside us that hid it. My name is Smith Foxe, I’m from the intersection of Heaven and Hell I’m annihilating nihilists like it’s the third quarter quell Because I’m hungry and I know that you’re hungry too But fuck playing hunger games, they feed us all fish food They got us at each other’s throats, fighting over sneakers and coats and deepfake digital bank notes While they crank boats and offer us nothing but stank floats But in the end we will be the ones who sank boats To the bottom of the seas while you struggle to make out Ursa Minor and your chest crushed from the ocean’s knees You used to dream about feeling the ocean’s breeze Now your flesh got a burn from the thermal updraft from Satan’s sneeze Fuck the five finger discount, here’s five flavors of funk Got five flavors of rhythm, five fingers to hit ‘em Five seconds left, five seconds of breath If I could fucking freestyle, I’d kill the five fingers of death This coming off the top because I remembered it. I wrote it If you don’t like my process, then you can licky-down my scrot-it Tell you what I want. It don’t matter, just don’t bite it up Could freestyle? I still write it and fucking light it up I’ll never be soda pop commercial, I’ll never sprite it up Last name Foxy, first name smite-it-up Not here for an argument on if ketchup or Wendy’s frosty a better condiment I smoke french fries get holy wisdom like Solomon And I sees ... that the great MCs populate the realm Mainstream and underground, enough fire to overwhelm I’d love to see collaborations with Drake and Chino or ... Ooh, what about Tyler and Immortal Technique? Spacetime would rift In a schism like Public Enemy and Professor Griff Damn, this la make me see clearly like Jimmy Cliff I see these visions, they come to me in like any Spliff Throw ideas that melts in your mouth, not in your hand like Ken Kaniff Hey yo, I can’t wait to be fucking rich Elevate family to levels they never dreamed Generate affluence ancestry never seen Create a legacy: greatness forever gleam I pay my in-laws’ mortgages down to zero hundred percent equity, hundred percent debt paid-in-full Like after Yeshua hunted in Gethsemane That same Jesus my dad prays to to heal cancer in his kidney I can’t wait to be fucking rich So I can afford to get my dad cancer treatments that’s effective Then maybe he can live long enough to see my daughter get strong enough To build her own empire that’s connected Go ahead and flip the switch, we’re shining in the darkness We’re loving both sides like we were (was) Captain Jack Harkness Go ahead and flip the switch, my family’s gonna shine with the lights out We got that safe space for you to rest up when it’s ice out I can’t wait to be rich so I can make my contribution Generational wealth, so far from familiar destitution Disseminate tenets of love and revolution, you know this Concepts that hijacked the attention of SCOTUS The type of shit that get you called out by POTUS We’re gonna start a thought pandemic the potency of 500 coronas going viral like Tina Fey’s epic eye roll The seed of revolution, then the outward spiral In the beginning it’s pure and clean, but intellectually shallow Like my shitty rap lyrics I wrote when I was 13 And when I turned that age, I was like “fuck 12!” Me and my people creeping on you in a fucking Prius Shadow black with the matte wrap so you don’t fucking see us I used to want a big truck and a Harley to inflate my pee-nus My friends and I went to gun shows and said, “AR-15 US!” The pain and trauma got me running back to isolation Running back to face my own face in the mirror basin Trying to find innocence like Bucky Barnes or Carter Baizen Before the Soviet Winter Soldier Calibration The duality between friend and enemy It’s so hard to find neutrality between, so send the Ketamine Or Psilocybin, I need to kill the ego, someone said I’m mean. Someone said I’m mean.