Instrumenter
Ensembles
Genres
Komponister
Udøvende kunstnere

Tekster: Qwel & Maker. The Harvest. Road Atlas.


Expanding time man I'm needle whistled breeze at cactus edge
Teehee giggle shreiks the greedy beasts but guess why rap is dead
Hence this pen is atlas
Backing this ball of madness
Cracked and dead
Set in math and headin fast
To crash this anti-accident
With heads and monster markers
Dueling friends and Brutus' secrets
Sleepless months the hunter seeks the meekest fueled on foolish weakness
Let's move to move to the peaks of mars
Ain't seen the ocean's deep yet
Sing the pros and cons of congress
We're the only beast that regressed
With songs about thongs dog as long as we keep the beat fresh
And drool before this crippled pope
And droolin speech it's greed fest
These thugs need to think hard
Scarred murderers with weak hearts
And stars sellin souls for dough
Misleadin folks like we god
There's an ethos
Learn to read think seek the release of enoch
Not the fable feebled knee knockin locked label weasels that greed bought
Stock options and say so netards bob to j-lo
And playdoh freezing from mock copped rocks that they copped from jayho
Can't wait to repay these snake a-holes that claim they slang they yayo
But ate souls from Harvey section eight to Agatite and Hazel
With satan in the waitin room your favorite toon and baby cradles
Gotta stay in Scripture pray it hits ya
Cause on this rip death's an angel
Sickenin as fake Christian grins and pagans spinnin in bank rolls
Makes us grim and stay stone and strays kids from the way home
It's simple subtle suckled since infancies slithering fables
Whispering winter upon it's finger tips just to skin this maple

I sing of that harvest
I sing of that breeze
And stingin footprints and fingernails
And deep inhale this sleep
I must admit though
When it flips snow
Rain or hail I tweek
It's the bad knees in the jealous rebel in you telling you that it's me
I sing of that harvest
I sing of that breeze
And stinging footprints and fingernails
And deep inhale this sleep
I must admit though
When it flips snow
Rain or hail I tweek
It's the bad knees in the jealous rebel in me telling me that it's me

I seen it all the saw sings
The carpenter's not real
I led my teeth along your long desert
And measured what I can steal
Saw nothing of worth
Some furniture along the way I guess I shaped
Stainless orphan he said
I'm the dust this table must be my name
Stained glass hand grooves in the handle
Man I seen it all I mean it
Ask any handsaw that's a handsaw
Man naw I leave paintbrushes bleedin
Busy describing what I'm a paint when I'm a paint but why am I painting?
I'm table oasis with no places left set to eat at
Ego clinks his teeth on his shovel
Hand me to me to reap the feedback
Right as rusty nails slightly tapped rings peels of lightning see that's
The problem?
He's a plumber and of no use to the screwy nails
Pretending he's pretending he's pretending
Jesus coming gunnin demons runnin ummin to see the Son at summit
Feedin this greedy media beast sleepin with these youngins in it's stomach
Turns mine signed turn mime now it's gimmicks in his mic check
Ripping nothing on purpose
To purpose this image in our likeness
Like like
I guess these little rich bitches must think we like stress
Right right
From fondulac to Iraq and back it's life's test
and life's ledge and red lights and dead mice and what nike says
And trife heads and meth pipes white dreads and at life's ledge
We read it right they wrote it wrong
And left all of these mics dead
Couldn't see the writing on the wall
Through all the ballers at the hype fest
Spittin eat drink be merry dog cause tomorrow your life ends
And it's as real as that solo serpent
Rollin for dough low in his nice benz
Qwel & Maker