Baby Country: To Further The Romantic Possibilities Of The Nation

by Big Papa Warrior

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released May 9, 2015

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Big Papa Warrior Portland, Oregon

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Track Name: Mad Baby Intro
Big Papa Warrior
I'll be your narrator and explorer
World tourer
The horror
Mi amore, mi amore, mi amore....

Let me be an open vessel
Janitorial or impresario
Warrior or spirit molecule
Wheel of Fortune on the Zephyr Wagon
Sun Magician morphing into Bull, Lion and Bald Eagle
Speaking in symbols and riddles
Sword raised to the heavens
No middle men between the seashell and the sea sound
It's all in the details
Specks of translucent sand and fish scales
Moon tides and pigtails

Days go by in a windy womb
I live and breathe in the view
Based out of Shanghai
The lone honky on a business trip to Milwaukee
To sell some magic beans to bonobo monkeys
Passing Black Cowboys and Neo-Nazis
Cops going by... waving and smiling
Armed to the teeth

All forms of violence beget more pain and suffering

Free your minds of society
Democratic Aristocracy
Monopolies atop barbed wire factories
Train blowin' through your Inner Outer Galaxies

The conductor's an old drunk codger
From Aesop's Fables to Rock to Rocky
Mr. T boxing
My brother Gandhi
There's always something to unite us
Cameraman's white so why the fuck am I not
Owning slaves or celebrities
Billions of years of history predates our misery
From lava pit to fissure to the Grand Balcony
I spit the words of a teacher
I spit when I talk
I lick what I'm kickin'
I know that I'm not this or that villain
This or that hillbilly
Ya'll willy-nilly poppin' too many pillies
Smokin' too many phillies
No really really really really
What's the dilly yo?
I got this funny feelin' yo
MF DOOM is actually some kind of Mad Superhero
(Too political?)
Let's go get a beer bro
Or stay at home and get esoterical
To live and learn is a miracle
To think you're not a worm is hysterical
That's knowledge of self in all its variables
Your bare bones blowin' into different area codes

Mother Earth dances, commands us to stand up
And take our pants off
Let it all hang out
The whole Prick Sandwich
Ticklin' uvulas
Back their flappin'
These multicolored dicks are fantastic!
I'd suck em if I was into that
Or systemically kill and imprison their relatives
Our ancestors are messengers
Riding in on eagle feathers
On economical suggestion
Leave the fat brisket
The trees in the forest
The funk on the tweeter
All up in the beaver
They call it the little death for a reason

My Dear, Dear Pervert
Slurp Slurp Slobber
Yo Gabba Gabba Gobstoppers
Monsters! You're all monsters!
Dunkin' donuts in your Triple Chai Mochas
Extra sugar
Hip Hop Hocus Pocus
Soft focus on a centerfold
A tale as old as time or to untame to be retold
I break the mold every time I rock a rhyme
There's an afterglow
What I'm after is the gold
Just like a Californian
Hard as shit too
That's alchemical poop
From the large intestine of a loose goose
A stool sample of your net worth
According to my numbers book
But let me take a second look...
Track Name: Dolphin Playground
Domestic man
Following the heat to Mexican land
Pan's fruit loop overture to moon lute
Hot apple cider splash of bourbon rye lemon juice
Leather cruise booze
Timberland Gnome Boots
One foot, two loose
Toulouse is in France
I'm up in New Paris
And in The Empress
On the Oriental rug fringe
Half man, half giant
Freedom fighter tyrant
Autumnal Amazonian Gentleman Swordsman
Two frogs chillin' in a mushroom forest
Faerie underworld below us
Titan Merman Moon
Winter glorious
Salt quartz corridor
On the border of tomorrow
Future Mama
Starlight Navelscape Dream Diorama

Pools underwater
Gods and Goddesses
Nike and Psyche
Zeus the Masseuse, massagin' me
Luxuriate in honesty
Take a tit, don't bottle feed
Soak in a warm sea
Mega stags all around
Fantasyland for my baby
Travellin' through coral reefs at sonar speed
Boneyard dolphin flies free
Skirtin' the waves of the Caribbean Sea
Fluorescent sunlit aqua green
Bubble blowin' sea lion
Or is it...
My rabbit Bean!?
I'm just an image in his dream...

It's over 'cause a brownie ate me

Gentleman Swordsman
Prehistoric Lord of Beat Zen
Following the sheep off the deep end
King Tut for a weekend
A pyramid is the center of the Earth
Naval of the Universe
Aliens were here first!
Indian fungi
American stun gun dumb tribe
They showed up in a V8 with beer pie
A phallus is a fun ride
Especially one as thick and motley as my guy
I'll be your black hole tour guide
We're gonna go left up her thighs to see a labial sunrise
She don't mind my cranial cumtide

(As long as you smell like oranges and my future child)

We fucked in past lives
Just to clarify
Super Erotic Insemination is our only crime

Written by Big Papa Warrior & Pitter Patter
Track Name: Baby Country
You can get with this
Or you can get with that
You can get with this
Or you can get with that
You can get with this
Or you can get with that... that... that

I see wormholes by the gazillion
Dog-eared God Vision
Via satellite road kitchen with the missus
Chillin' like a villain with these Africans and pilgrims
Cum in their faces
Let's make a fuckin' million
Die in our sleep of a brain legion
Freezin' in the North Pole with Jesus
In his Omnipresent Kingdom
O Happy Freedom
O Happy Freedom
Old Happy Freedom
Watchin' the desert rose bloom in the evenin'
This is a recording
Everyone's recording
Reporting! Reporting!
Sorting and sorting
Consorting and snorting
Abort the fuckin' mission
Rest in peace Robin Williams
I know the voices in our heads are the voices that we speak
To idiotic interviewers
I got my lovers on this street!
They could be Emotive Orange Elfins
We don't want to die alone in a trashcan
On a melting down planet

Invisible friends on Tumblr
Distant family on Saturn
I wonder... I wonder... I wonder...
How many cocks does it take to stuff the thunder?
Subtract a triangle from a rectangular number
The Harry, Dick and Toms with their demos in their Mothers
Let it all come back
Overflow through your noggin
Penetrate your wife if she's into fuckin' fuckin'
Lil' Cosmic Creeps with Bill Cosby Complexes
Half Upper Middle Class with Bitch-Ass Rolexes
Showin off my Black Ass to Afro-French Texicans
Shakespearean Veterans
On your paperwork, check New Mexican

It was all a dream
I used to read Source Magazine
Four mics and Lil' Kim's ass cheeks
Up in a limousine
Seems like just last week
Extra P said don't say 2014
Forever 16
Super Freak, wink wink
Rapping backwards in the White Lodge
Dwarf in one arm
Pink Impala in the garage
I'm upstairs getting a Special Chinese Massage
Third Eye Foot Rub Technology
Breathtaking Blowjob
Tantric Loverman
Illuminated Gangstar
Pin ya with a corsage
High-five the hand of a Deep Space Mirage
No applause from the stiz-ars
Only the Martians and the Cz-ars
Playin' electric guitars with their incisors
At the Milky Way Dive Bar

Written by Big Papa Warrior
Track Name: Freedom To Be Who You Are
Who mastered the act?

Who are you? Who are you?

The next day...
The moment was on us in the form of petrified dog doo doo
Babies gone goo goo
Who you? Who you?
A samurai or robocop?
Big Papa Psychonaut
Aka the Shemale Black Astronaut
Who mastered The Art?
Respect! A good listener
Ego'll block your ears until you can't hear it register
What weighs more?
A pound of rocks or pound of feathers?
What we have here is a failure to wear leather
While flying home....

What happens on the moon stays on the moon
I'll be blissed beyond belief
Laughin' about the good tunes
From the Netherworld I can hear the Dead Soul scream...
I guess it depends on your proximity to ghostly feelings...

Spring nights at twilight
Sexual felines
The men are but penises
Into puns and sports events
Mai thais and counterfeit coins
That's right
Swimmin' like a Duck in Gold Nuggets
Fuck it! It's Halftime!

Right, right
And I'm a Nike Head
My laurel leaves excite the Feds

Squeeze a lime into the evil eye of the magpie
My tag name in bright lights:
Astro Bone The Third Aka Silkworm Flasher Guy
Neon rooftop dancer without his pants on
So he can lay down in the grass lawn
Like a vagabond in Avalon
In the year of the Cro-magnon Dragon
Offered apple blossoms in my nose garage
I'm a man on a mission to seek
A faerie's form of sabotage
That's where the fire's born

Written by Big Papa Warrior
Sprinkled with faerie dust by The Empress
Track Name: Boy in the Hood: Paul Simon Gaptooth
Do I dare anything personal?
A verse or two that's worth a whole universe
Of molecules, mooses (sic), and hair follicles
The Revolution happened
When you were rappin' in solitude
Nigger rich is a phrase I hear from the mouths of white dudes
Who sell weed and listen to the same songs as I do
That evil that friends do
That's true understanding or racist and cruel
I remember when I played DJ Shadow in high school
and Shelly said he's blacker than all of you
Silk shirt, stolen drug store gold necklaces
I was that gap-toothed goof at the dances
Showin' off his moves in front of the black kids
Or preaching OutKast at recess
A cracker or a nigga that think he a cracker
Or maybe just don't understand
I was embarrassed but proud
Then Beck came on the tape and Shelly cut out

Two turntables and a foot in your mouth
My sensibility's always been wild
From Hip Hop to Bach
I'm talkin' Johann Sebastian
I'm the son of a German Naval Captain
And cab driver
Grandpa Lew on slide trombone
Blowin' with Lionel Hampton
Mom's got the Brazilian Booty Beats smackin'
My other mom's part African
With the same passion
Cut from the same fabric
Full of my own soul and fat-lipped
Same the magic tricks for the road show
This is happenin'

Naked on the floor in front of the MacBook rappin'
To a catfish about how beautiful nature is
Soundin' like a guy in a drug experiment...
The answer is love
Over and over again
The answer is love
Over and over again
The answer is love
Over and over again...

Neither Native or American
Barely even Earth Man
Centaur in the sky
I can fly twice as high as Evil Knievel can
Done bustin' nuts in guts
I'm a born again Loverman
Yabba Dabba Hootie Hoooooo Man

Or whitey on the bright side of the moon again
But there's another set of boot prints
And some encampments on the North Ridge
Totem poles, an old crone and a spaceship
And the skull of a lunatic
Glowing in the cosmic fishiness
A rich source of vital images...

This is a song called Paul Simon Gaptooth
On my forthcoming album Baby Country
Hope you like
Short, African, White
Made some good music
Moves my soul all right
If that makes me a duck pigga
With a little curly tail
My ass ain't right
Everything's fine says my doctor by twilight
You'll never have to see me again in your life
I'm off the beat
Up late at night
Writing letters to Mike Eagle in rhyme form
I met him on the road en route to Saturn
We're like Q-Tip and Q-Tip livin' on different planets
Leaders mixed with followers
Separating the men from the mice
The rice from the quinoa
The Pinot blanc from the Free Stuff
Gucci creampuffs drinkin' Hennessy and Zimas
My neckbone's connected to my funny aha femur
There's goes Chevy Chase in the Zephyr
Up up
Up up into the ether

Fuck fuck the parking meter
It's pillow cars across the skyline
A good place to rest your head at nighttime
I write rhymes for woman and children
Who will never wear neckties
But got diamonds comin' out their behinds
It's a psychological phase
You gotta stomp through in Hammer pants
Dancing with Morticia in the moonlight
Spooky and ooky, doin' what the fuck I like
Then there's Mookie throwin' a trashcan
There's all this tension and fright
Hard feelings mixed with stereotypes
Brown avocados taste good
I don't even have to buy em
Survival of the fit
Homeless shelters to million dollar mansions
Back to pure air, black dirt and log cabins
Barbecues and die-hard Romantics
Kill the white noise and static
I wake up and go at it
Like Donald Duck on crack
Talkin' to a Mad Hawaiian
Pound for pound
Lick to center
Kiss on the lips, ass or wherever
This is New Paris weather we're having here
It's painful moving away from what I've known and been
Oregon Boy to Alano Kid
Skip Milan and Paris for Watts Towers and Croatia
Dig to China for a computer chip
'Cause it's a whole lot cheaper

Gonna break this Killer Bread and ditch The Reaper
Stop pushin' a mop at a preschool
I do it for the little weirdos
I am Wonder Woman
Music should be free to the people
You can't hear it on TV shows
Producers sucking off your frontal lobes
This is written with love and heart-encoded

I have so many identities which one's more important
Or who owes what to which friend?
They all inspire and support this antiwar veteran
Medicine Man in a time of ill-at-ease specimens
'Bout to go back to bed
Next to The Empress
And I'm levitating in the desert again...

Written by Big Papa Warrior
Paul Simon Nontooth lyrics by Exuma
Track Name: Honky Tonk Waddama
Picture perfect
I paint the perfect picture
Yab-yum style in a circle in the jungle
Might play some Mungo Jerry
Followed by Sly and the Family
Spaced Cowboys
Bacchus and His Boogiers
The President
And the Mayor...

In line for titty-suckin' and the tenderest of blowjobs
Behold the cosmos painted on the cavewall
The crude scribbles on the stall
The gall, wherewithal, the guts to speak up, out or what
Party Hardy Marty with white girls
Persians from Guam
Pink Warriors
Mocha Swirl
Big Papa go for all that
Human frailty flaws
Pop lockin' at the Goth Bash
Necromancer of the stars
I got that
Cosmic Slop
Mixed with a Mata Hari Absinthe
On the rocks
Flame-broiled in sugar by the leather-bound bartender
Smoking mugwort and Mary Jane in April showers
Barbecued pig with a pineapple in its maw
Sun creepin' through the fog
Inside the house with the cosmonauts
Blazin' trails with Del and Bill Clinton
Devin the Dude's doobie's gone missin'
It's the Case of Puff Puff and Git Gone With It
Texas Represent
Dolly Parton's parking the Benz
Right next to the Fishers
And Betty Davis...

Oh hey, come on in
No, we're just gettin' goin'

It's the party of the century and everybody's comin'
Yab-yum style in a circle in the jungle
Electric Pow Wow style
Multidimensional lunar eclipse in a few hours
Pan playing Oriental flute on the isle
New Paris is the Motown of my heart
It's been awhile
Since I felt this crazy happy
Beetlejuice and Buckwheat
In the kitchen
With McBeth trancsending
That's a secret message between him and me
Meaning don't sniff coke out of the carpet
Then try to spell the word transcend
With lipstick in the bathroom mirror of your apartment

The man in the mirror is Michael Jackson

I throw passion parties
For ghetto superstars in the Aquarian Age
Third eye blinkin' at galactic babes
Trying to get a man to dance
Where's Big Papa's head at?
And where's The Empress?
Gettin' groped on the dance floor by some dirty rat
Watch your back, muthafucka
Nah...I'm just fuckin' with ya...
When here comes a green-haired faerie
Writing love poetry on an iApp
Time flies light fast
When Death's grin is wigglin'
Like a toothless barbarians next of kin

Cee-Lo's gigglin' on the sofa
Must be the Soul Food I made him
For the way he made me feel on those Goodie Mob albums
Totally Free
To party past the pain and the sadness
And not let the system warp our perceptions
A man needs some time alone with his thought processes

The man in the mirror has compassion

Buck naked on the back porch
Making a fire under the night sky
I need a party beat next time
Play it live on your pirated satellite Radio Shack device
Young and so full of life
Who needs a compass when you've got ganja
On a planet
Held aloft by elephants riding turtles
All the way down to sidewalk
Where it ends
Is where my house is
Up the stairs
That's where you'll find us

Acid in the Kool-Aid

Strawberries in the smooth-ay

Nude, romantic cocks swaying in the moonbeams...

Written by Big Papa Warrior
Track Name: Nymphenburg, New Paris
Hip hop in Paris
Parallel to Paradise
Roamin' through the bone yard
Like an animated corpse at night
Robbin' bling from graves
By the uncanny candlelight
Lookin' like a man runnin' rabid from a rattler bite
I hit on hippy girls and crazy Spanish troglodytes
Marchin' through forest
Lookin' left and lookin' right
At these tree nymphs and water sprites
Feelin' like a satyr
Dressed up like a shining knight
In the mood for a pillow fight
Under a moon it's super bright
I have the appetite of ten men
Standing approximately twice my height

Oranges and kisses
Bathtub cunnilinguses
Big messy digits
Saltwater scrub spit
Fuck Freud
I'm going into the carpet
I'll see ya later down at the tar pits
In the past future
Super Big Baby Dick
Rattlin' the cacti and desert rat mammals
On the back of a motorcycle
Giant camel pinatas
Danglin' from the witch hazel
Twilight High Noon Midnight Wind Channel

I'm a Big Surian Saturnian Hurricane
I fly the chariot over the highway
'Bout to pluck me off this wave
And drop me off on my dream date
Norwegian meatballs
Lebanese lamb plate
All in the same day
Stuffed peasant toast with apricots and cheese cream
I'm seduced by reality at last
Epicurean Totality

Written by Big Papa Warrior
Track Name: My Dream feat. Pitter Patter
Think like an American she says...

In the bathtub at the top of the trees
It's not a starry night but we got a moony breeze
After afternoon bluey green
Hush Frog River
Visit Daydream Peak
Across the street from Hozomeen
Eatin' Iberian ham
Drinkin' home brewed tea from a tin can
Sittin' on a stump
Breathin' in the Big Bang... I understand
Lookin' in the window at the lizard scene
Me in my body
Hippo nibblin' dandelion leaf

Forest fading and filled with feeling
Climb in my boat and take the ride
Moon mirror on chimp tides
Harmony between instinct and the mind

Remember El Babydoll
When we watched that Alice in Wonderland pornography
Whilst playing Scrabble
For billions of years we've kept each other wild
Clam happy and vivrant
Visibly vile
Kissed virtually as well as right on the balls yo
Curtains open on French subtitles

Sex Den
Je t'aime
Je t'aime

I may not be able to box but I'm pretty
Growin' in my luscious eyelashes
Gettin' all primed for merrimonious ecstaticness
Harmonious mirage of the sexes
The planets all asleep in the deep
Shining on the honey heaps
On the lake with herons
Above in the canyon
The land is no man's land
Waterfalls and fountains
Geysers paramount to fertile serpents
Volcanic in the cabin
Campin' on the mattress
'Bout to tap that ass soundless
Candlelight and red lantern
Tiger fuckin' in the black velvet

The Eclipse
The Equinox
The New Moon
And the First Day of Aeries
The world is my raisin
The rain is my jungle vacation
Bubblin' mud foundation
In the slushy garden
At this house we're stayin' in
Vibratin' and shakin' off the ground
Roots danglin' star-bound
My heart's racin'
I'm as gentle as time is aimless
Ancient ways
Compassionate and untamed
Here comes the rain again...

Written by Big Papa Warrior and Pitter Patter
Track Name: Freak Nature
Flowin' on the streams
Words don't mean shit to me now...

Oceanic moonscape
Dream date with Pan
Satyr satisfies nymph
Beardin' the clam
Tonguing your pearl
Hand on your thigh
Streamside cunnilingus
What is this lingam?
Old as nature itself
It's the mark of a man
Not a phallic emblem and far from fucking boring
Shiva's third eye
The opening in your forehead
I'll lick it and keep you fed
Illuminated Earth Star
I ain't too proud to beg
Atop this column of fire
Wettin' your lips
Fingers in the grass
Horns ticklin' and prick in your ass

Witch whispers in the kitchen
I'm in and out of portals of existence
Freak nature scientist by trade and tradition
Who's the hairstylist?
Who's the art alien?
Who's the moon elf--Ryan
I answered my own question
Now I need some grounding
The wind whips around us
I love you
We're flying
Spider wood tree house
Cloud-shrouded dryad
Dancing in the dark grass with her shoes off
Time travel to cool off
Alight upon planet Venus with no socks on
Lunar pods of reflection
Embrace this starry-eyed Homo sapien
Lookin' like a Mexican
Crossbred with Alfred E. Newman
Singing The Temptations
Legs folded under him
Waves in the distances
Just the imagination of a California Raisin
Before The Empress
The Coven
The Beam of a Spaceship
Real or Not
Just like the Government

Real or Not...

Nobody beats Big Papa Warrior
Hip Hop Historian
Faster than a bullet through a dead man's forehead
Not a contrarian or troll
I mean what I said
See what I meant?
Able hearing aid center if you are deaf
It's like on uh Powell and Cesar Chavez
They get you checked in
Get that defective eardrum ringin
Bring in the saints
It's the Swinging 20's
No it ain't!
Fashionable 40's
I'm in 1969 goin' out of my forehead
Into my rocker
Off my gourd
Dick in one hand the other praisin' the Lord

Transcended Time & Space back in Law School
In this Japanese Place among dead salmon molecules
Starts with a U...
Purple fish tank
Better described as a lavender hue
When I'm dead I want people to say I was a magical dude
Never tragic or rude
Goldfish in a sushi bar just seems cruel
But if I don't eat the fish I guess a shark will

Fresh frozen
Mouth pitted
Couch sitted
Downy pitted
Candlelit visages
Pentagram cherry wishes
Led Zepp vinly hissin'
Fat black cat kitten
Miniature pole dancin'
Fireplace winter magic
Moon and Sun
Silver Tantric
Gold Panther
I'm a Sex Bandit


Written by Big Papa Warrior
Track Name: Kung Pow Master
Living vicariously through gangsters in different eras
Urban Ghetto Boy
Mind playin' tricks in cheap motels and homeless shelters
My reality confirmed and overwhelmed by Black Voices
That brought joy and comfort
12 years old...what will happen?

Shot straight to my eardrum
A Lethal Injection
Put my locs on at the intersection
Back seat of my mom's truck
Eazy-E blarin'
She didn't say shit about no fuckin and swearin
Jockin and smackin
Chicks with dicks
Sweet Black Pussy
I'm still crazy for Quik
He caught me before puberty hit
Before I was even strokin my own dick
To the images of Mary J. Blige and Robin Givens
Once I felt the tip pulse I couldn't quit it

[OutKast Funky Ride Orgasm]

Lil' Kim let me hit it in my adolescence
Headphones pressed to my skull
Dick in both fists
I gotta have it
Ms. Fat Booty was my Mama Earth fetish
I wrote a poem about it in later years
In mental anguish
Reading Existential books
Dostoevsky's Underground Man
I am sick...
Sick of swoll' headed rappers with their sickenin' raps
Clappin' the gats, makin' the whole sick world collapse
I swore off Pac and DFC for De La Soul and Tribe Called Quest
Movin' West The Pharcyde and Freestyle Fellowship
No Bob Dobalina
In my heart I was a black kid
'Til acne-assed Billy pushed me over the side
Of the slide of the jungle gym
Back smacked the sand
I didn't wanna be Black then
Cryin' on the steps next to Darkman
Shawn said you were tougher when you were Black
Laughin' his ass off...

I miss that ashy-legged kid and his brother Jason
His sister Nikki
Whippin us with extension cords
For beatin each other's heads in
Blanket boxin in the bedroom
Knockin against the wall while Rochella drank King Cobras
With their friends and step dad
Who told us Bigfoot was gonna snatch us up from the bunk bed
Later that night we heard creakin and breathin in the hallway
Mustered up the courage to investigate
Creepin around the house
No weapons or chance of escape
Got to the bedroom at the climax
Mom's gettin that ass tapped
I'm serous as AIDS, cancer and a heart attack

No need for alarm
Don't panic
It's not a nightmare on my street we're stranded in
We all crash landed on the planet
Equal parts poor and rich
Feminine and mannish

Be a sport, take her coat
Like TLC let's just take this moment slow
Wind down, feel it with your mind now
I got the chopstick
You got the Kung Pow
That shit's spicy
If I made a movie you'd be a night owl
Hey, babydoll, where's the sex towel?
The novel by the bed about the bear and the mermaid
That's a canker sour
Not a herpe
This is my natural hair not a blonde afro toupee
Get it straight--this is a rupee
Sanskrit for cash-money
Hey Hey Hey Hey Hey
Hi Hi Hi

"There's a cry in the air
I'll catch you as before
I am the Dragonfly Hunter" (Harumi lyrics)
Track Name: Cop Lover
Get me out of this world
Get me out of this mess
Get me out of this dress
Get me out of this mindset

Tear gas won't quiet us
Do it like a monk
And light your life on fire
Do it in one moment
Are we gods or technological blobs
Down for the slaughter of our own children

Big as the Hulk but not bulletproof
If a gun was pointed at me
I'd be a raging beast too

It's time to kill a cop
and by I kill I mean love him
for he knows not what he does
even when he does it
and they're gonna see the blood
'cause the TV's all up on it
splashed on the faces of the men who sponsor it
Broadcasted twitterpated apologies will not be accepted
you can keep your eyes and rebuild Ferguson with them

I never wanted to be a human being and this is what I've got
a mouth that talks
two feet that carry me when I walk
over the hot ash of my evacuated city
the other side of death looks pretty
in the dark - quick spark of infinity
but it's a trick of the light to believe that we exist
'cause I've studied my hands enough to know they won't be missed
everywhere the brains shift
just beneath the skulls
everywhere the eyes skip
over the ancient scrolls
and this skin will grow old and mold
and that's only if I'm lucky
and only if I'm lucky will her decomposed hands find new ways to touch me
and only if I'm lucky rebirths and orgasms
fear sits in our protoplasm
and waits for angels to disarm the phantoms
and my soul can't relax because the moon is slanted
and bits of rock are stranded in my head with the American Anthem
it plays on a boombox between a bum and shaman. . .

Is god out to lunch or off the wagon
or overthrown by Lucifer and his companions and clones
all handsomer than me
eyes like steel marbles
tongues like centipedes
fingers like Nosferatu
lungs like dead trees
there's things that have the smell of your own impending death
it sweats through the windows
hides in your lover's breath
camouflaged in the shape of her neck
two-headed and says the shit that you'd expect
pushes through your consciousness from Monday to paycheck
and it hurts
that's why tears show their blank faces
and leave traces of themselves
'til they sprout new life in murky basements
where ghosts shift in rigid chairs filling out applications
I squeeze through
avoid the shiftless faces
the alchemist lab tables
and the weary outpatients
guarding their hearts with flimsy swords
investing their cores in the wrong motivator
meanwhile I walk the surface nervous
trying to turn sun rays to escalators
but these thoughts are old news and Icarus is fish food
somewhere at the salty bottom surrounded by camera crews
spending his last fifty dollars on some heat-resistant glue

Get me out of this world
Get me out of this mess
Get me out this dress
Get me out of this mindset

Peace and love
Is there anymore to say on the subject
Killer Mike cried on stage
Motherfuck Eloquence
Gangsta Rap was never more relevant
I'm the Dirty Harry of New Paris
on a school bus full of kids
A sheriff can still be a lunatic
The joy we get feeling threatened
There's outlaws and lawmen
But I'm a Gentleman Swordsman
I fight with wits and fists
Like Ice Cube's Dad in Friday told me
And by me I mean Craig
Papa's got a brand new bag
The lights come on in my mutha fuckin head
I push through the sadness
of being a White Man
Alone among white men
Might be riots on the streets
but to all a good night man
Might be niggas who kill
Might be cops who get off on it
Our History haunts us
Punk Bully Slaughterers
or Peace Lovin Martians
Snoop Dogg or Snoop Lion
Big Papa Warrior or Michael Wayne Roberts
RIP Michael Brown
we'll smoke some cigarillos in the next town
in our Pig Repellent Nightgowns
Shopliftin' shits and giggles
walkin down the middle of the road
tall and proud
It doesn't matter if you're Pink or Brown
Muslim or Christian
When Death rolls around
you can forget what you knew

Written by Big Papa Warrior