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Memoirs of a Marionette. (to the beat of Jay Electronica’s “Exhibit A”)
(@ 0:23)
Verse 1:
When the base(bass) starts hittin
That’s when I start spittin
Whether it’s lugi-a or ho oh
You know that the flow go
From ice to fire in a blink of an eye
Like a firestone, eyes(ice) turn quick on a dime
Just to get ‘em, people push ‘em
Then forget ‘em unless they kushin (cushion)
Then they keep ‘em around
just to have a customer to push in.
but think of who you are and what do you endorse?
there’s a big world out there with more to offer than a Porche
and a Range, and whatever else on your list of “to obtain”
just know that material dreams will dissolve once it rains
then as it pours upon your head while you sit and contemplate
with some broad in your bed who you can’t recall the name
who’s to blame?
But yourself
now that you've elapsed all the wealth
and girls that’s like books the way you pull ‘em off the shelf
Preying on women with low self esteem and
banking on the poor, the hopeless, and the fiends
All for the love of the woman wearing green
I just hope your life is as good as it seemed in your dreams like...
("Hmmm..let's see-")
Verse 2:
What’s first on the agenda
Foo Fighter or Pretender
My subconscious favors latter
Whatever makes my pockets fatter
Offend ya? Well you should... mute the chatter
I deem it hate, strap the silencer to cease the clamour
you heard of it?
Oh yes and I mean every word of it
and all nay-sayers can have a reason to wrap tourniquet.
no I aint Bunson
but-I always got the burner's lit
and I can't lose, I own every seed in the tournament!
To the city, I am merchant
so stagnant like a perchant
Make a sale to make a purchase
Rig the mast and watch me flourish
Is it worth it?
Livin day to day just to hustle and bang
Always on the look-out for somethin’ new to slang
Like my arms in one, ‘cause I’m rolling with a handicap
End up lookin dumb as soccer moms rockin fanny packs
Verse 3:
-flint from the hip, or I Clint with the clip
hair-line fracture, supplied complete with a splint
I'm like an expired Trojan, 'cause I'm not one to fuck with
tell that to this young cat prowlin', tryna get hunted
“yo! guerlilla this kid before he rocks your shit!
fuck it, you're runnin outta time dog, clock that bitch”
but I ain't fast enough Draw
before McGraw pushes pencil Quick
and you can't erase past, 'cause the ink is always permanent....
so I'm forced to live my death but that don't make no sense (cents)
started out makin dollars just to pay my own rent
I wonder wear them days went, hustlin' just to make it
Funny how currency, currently has me on pavement
coulda quit while I was ahead, took my funds and just saved it
instead i lay on the side of the face I cut weight in, faded....
is this what it feels like to make it?
game over, no lives, no continues, thanks for playin'
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