The Dichotomy of RoQy TyRaiD

by RoQy TyRaiD

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about

The introspective, enigmatic "Dichotomy" of RoQy TyRaiD. Artistically, this album is black, white, and every shade & nuance in between. It's personal, it's journalistic, romantic, action-packed, comical, political, and real. This body of work is a universal, yet microscopic diagnosis of humanity, through the eyes of RoQy TyRaiD.

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released September 14, 2016

J. Raiford (BMI)

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RoQy TyRaiD Phoenix, Arizona

RoQ’y TyRaiD has a uncompromising sound which is deeply rooted in the 90s heyday of unadulterated hip hop but with a contemporary flavor. Those who are blessed with the opportunity to hear this man’s unique mixture of wordplay, wittiness, originality, brazen yet smooth delivery, controversial subject matter, and charisma will proclaim him DOPE without a shadow of doubt ! ... more

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Track Name: The Fire Rises
[RoQy]
What motivates a champion? Pain of abandonment/
Regardless what you think, I won’t be slain in front the cameraman/
Not take a loss in front the audience. Adamant. Option less/
Even if I fall, I’ll be back again/
Climbin up the wall like The Dark Knight/
The day I fall will be the culture’s BIG-gest loss since March 9th/
No ability in this industry to rest/
Like there’s no tomorrow, my motto is ‘Victory or Death’ Motherfucker !! /

[TyRaiD]
I’m considered a beast, you’re a primitive bitch/
I’ll take the belt from your hip, configure a leash, and throw it from a limb that extends from a tree/
Pull it where it pivots, it constricts as you lift from your feet/
Within a couple minutes, you’re limp and deceased/
Enter the coroner team/
Niggas wouldn’t “Trade Places” with you, if they were under Mortimer’s wing/
I’ll martyr you, so retract your statements or incur my wrath and hatred/
The equal halves of The Last Dragon and Patrick Bateman/
I’m the answer to wack rapper glamorization/
Raise the standards ‘til backpackin acts are the A List/
My very presence demands a standing ovation/
You’re an imitation brand, look up “stratification”/
You’re aspiring to box, ‘cuz uninspired is your art/
And if I buy it, I would fly into a diabetic shock/
Because you’re sweet, you ain’t a “beast”, nor is your team, okay?/
Only time that you messed with a circle of animals was a See-N-Say/
I brought the balance back, your spouse is on my phallic sack/
Bounced and left a puddle in your house like she was Alex Mack/
You ever challenge the throne/
I’ll be the worst thing to happen to you niggas since reality shows, fucker/
[Bane]
Yes..
The Fire Rises (x 8)

[RoQy]
Nothing’s changed, same hunger pangs from my younger days/
Still unafraid, I told you snuff me before I come of age/
One thing that did leave we’re drunken days/
I was an alcoholic, I killed more Mickey’s than Clubber Lang/
“To get a buzz, you need to dumb it down. It’s June, you need a summer sound/
If you expect the record pools to ever come around.”/
It’s only cool to mimic someone’s style if you’re their biggest Stan/
Or gig at a casino as a tribute band/
But I’ma stick to my job, whether explicit or raw/
Or for the children like McMillian-McGraw/
I flip bars like I raw dogged Dominique Dawes/
Your little “movement” is an obsolete cause, nobody gives a shit!!/

[Bane]
Yes..
The Fire Rises (x8)
Yes! I was wondering what would brake first!

[TyRaiD]Get Up RoQ. (x2)
[Bane] Your spirit?
[TyRaiD] Get up RoQ!
[Bane] Or your body?!
[TyRaiD] GET UP!!

[TyRaiD]
Could give a fuck how you cowards feel/
I hope you get abducted and cathered with a power drill/
You must be bored, go bridge jump without a bungee cord/
With luck, you’ll get discovered in some rubbish that was brushed ashore/
You Rap Nazis need a damn hobby/
More concerned about the word “swag”, when you reek of mediocrity, your tracks sloppy/
I’m in Manhattan cab-hopping/
Just to think, a couple years ago, nigga’s peddlin’ like my dad’s Joffrey/
I don’t respect your ass/
Insincere giving dap like, “let’s collab!” NEGATIVE!/
You’re a rectal rooter. My Asian chick is delectable/
I stabbed her yellow box like an Ecto Cooler/
I break backs like I walk around in Bane’s mask/
The most important person abandoned me, now my pain’s back/
This the reinvigoration ‘til my strength’s maxed/
RoQy TyRaiD’s BACK!/
Track Name: Barefoot Running
[Tina Estes]
Barefoot running on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
Burdened by the path that I covered
Perseverance, feelin like I’m Barefoot runnin on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
To make the pain numb, can’t wait ‘til that day come, I’ll be like
Da da da da dadadada (x4)

[RoQy TyRaiD]
Fought against my inner demons/
Inhibitions and restrictions had consistently impeded/
Any shift in my indifferent disposition towards cohesive/
Beneficial intimate relationships with other people/
Showed no interest, content as a hermit, cuz it’s convenient/
The less distance that I’m given at my whim, the more uneasy/
That I get, ‘cuz I’m convinced you’ll unintentionally misread me/
At events, I would pretend that I was friendly, it’s deceiving/
Don’t suspend this apprehension, it’ll eventually defeat me/
Social anxiety/
Seen as a pariah, I was hopeless in society/
Best move was seclusion/
Reclusive, less humans/
Circle of friends was exclusive/
In retrospect, I was stupid/
Evolution ain’t impossible/
I finally learned my message: “push the envelope”/
Company’s discomforting but conditioning’s needed to evolve/
Gotta keep on, gotta keep on/
[Tina Estes]
Barefoot running on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
Burdened by the path that I covered
Perseverance, feelin like I’m Barefoot runnin on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
To make the pain numb, can’t wait ‘til that day come, I’ll be like
Da da da da dadadada (x4)

[RoQy TyRaiD]
Ridin’ bald tires to the wire, lost my electricity/
Job supervisor got her eye on ethnicities/
No sympathy/
If your health declines, don’t arrive and you’re history/
Siphoned my energy, deprived of my time, had to hide my identity/
Ironically, I got it to provide my amenity/
Pay my rent in time without fine or penalty/
But Over The Horizon, is victory/
Deskjob got a brotha distraught/
No rest or fresh start, duress and stress caused/
From expensive investments/
To broke for Whole Foods, to rich for Quest Cards. Welp!/
To admit, I considered quittin’ to finish school/
Do to manipulative friends with hidden agendas, who/
Viewed Jacob as a ladder to success/
My soul gets callous with each step. Feelin’ like I’m/


[Tina Estes]
Barefoot running on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
Burdened by the path that I covered
Perseverance, feelin like I’m Barefoot runnin on the blacktop, middle of the summer
Searchin’ for the first sign of comfort
To make the pain numb, can’t wait ‘til that day come, I’ll be like
Da da da da dadadada (x4)
Track Name: Over The Horizon
[RoQy TyRaiD]
This is for the youngin’ with the student loans, old heads with mortgages
Title loans, Pay Day Advance money forfeiters
Don’t think we ain’t noticed ya, roll with us
Over The Horizon, this is good times man
Whether or not you’re knee deep with two or three jobs
And an EBT card and ya need a restart. Hey Hey!
Just follow me as we embarkin
Over The Horizon, this is good man

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
This that “fuck it music” /
“Six pack in a cooler or a bucket music”/
“Potent and strong, perfectly rolled blunt. Coolin’ Out puffin music” /
“Peel out while bumpin loud in public music”/
Some take a spin, play games, or hit the gym/
Stay in or get with friends, escapism is different for instance, me/
I’m inclined to dive inside my music, I’m reclusive/
A private life’s a vice of introverts, it’s not exclusive/
But anyways, back to that LAX state of mind/
You gon’ need a peace of that, after that bad day slavin at that backbreaking grind/
For insufficient cash/
Barely keep up with them numbers on that gas station sign/
I’m all about escaping and stay-in vacations/
Long as you use your tools in moderation/
Don’t mean to be corny but keep your foot off the pedal, make sure your blunt ain’t too fat/
Go into clubs with your cash, don’t use your card, it goes fast/
So we can all go to Vegas and mob around Manhattan like we made it/
Instragram each other like we’re A List/
Trials and tribulations are sure to come/
But even airplanes have to do circles in order to move up. True enough/
I’m due for a little leisure/
And a Latina that’s hot and ready like Little Caesar’s/
I’m so facetious, I hold the keys, just/
Roll with me like you don’t know what “E” is/
Check it

This is for the youngin’ with the student loans, old heads with mortgages
Title loans, Pay Day Advance money forfeiters
Don’t think we ain’t noticed ya, roll with us
Over The Horizon, this is good times man
Whether or not you’re knee deep with two or three jobs
And an EBT card and ya need a restart. Hey Hey!
Just follow me as we embarkin
Over The Horizon, this is good man

I make it happen, I don’t make dues, I paid those/
Break rules, ain’t no “take twos” just “game over”/
I’m the best at makin’ it work with next to nothing, minimal bread/
But still poppin out the door, fresh out thee oven, give me respect/
As I, cruise along Santa Monica boulevard/
And pull a shorty from my Accord, on my accord/
If she climb aboard, we ridin’ ‘til the tires worn and wires showin’/
Or hug the curb like the sirens on, and I am ghostin’ !/
I left my struggles at the crib like troubles over chips/
Can’t wait until my hustle starts to bubble in this bitch/
I’ma save, hit the Grammys, walk the red carpet like a parade/
Me and my squad marchin like a brigade, it’s all grav’ /
A breather is needed before I cave/
See me at the show, front row of the strage/
I’ll never treat this moment in vain/
Sunshine before Darkness, Joy over Pain/



This is for the youngin’ with the student loans, old heads with mortgages
Title loans, Pay Day Advance money forfeiters
Don’t think we ain’t noticed ya, roll with us
Over The Horizon, this is good times man
Whether or not you’re knee deep with two or three jobs
And an EBT card and ya need a restart. Hey Hey!
Just follow me as we embarkin
Over The Horizon, this is good man


Over The Horizon, this is good times (x 2)
Over The Horizon, this is good times man
Over The Horizon, this is good times
Over The Horizon, this is good (x 2)
Over The Horizon, Over The uh-uh-uh
Over The Horizon, this is good times

Yeah. Yeah
Track Name: Application, Dedication, Discipline
[RoQy TyRaiD]
*Sighs*
(Looked at my bank account and it looks like I… May need a job!)

(Na-na-nanana-na-nanana grab the keyboards, get your resumes. Shsseh
Let you people, man. Most of the Independent Rappers, most of these people you listen to, they have a job.)

Gotta be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x 3)
Gotta be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x3)

Man. I’ll gladly find a legal side hustle before I struggle/
Sick of grieving over how much diesel my ride guzzles/
Started fillin’ out applications/
Temp employment agencies hitting me back with placements/
My staffing agent told me the work is basic/
They’re searching for a person with certifications in technical service, who’s courteous and patient/
And that I’m worthy to take it/
My uncertainty met with encouraging statements concerning my pay. I returned to the matrix/
Client recruiter leads me through the hall/
Like a paraded prisoner, my sentence is an interview with Paul/
A 6’2, heavyset dude who’s head was shaved read my resume/
The stench of Brute resonates/
Obligatory interview questions like “what’s my biggest weakness?” /
Stories of adversities and what I’d do to beat it (boo) /
Where I went to college and why I didn’t complete it (boo!)/
If I’d tell my boss if I saw someone cheatin’ (BOO!)/
I’ve lacked attention span since elementary lesson plans/
Somethin’ somethin’ “commission” . Somethin’ somethin’ “an extra grand”/
Surveying cliché motivational pictures hangin’ from the wall/
An indication I ain’t stayin’ here long/
A handshake, though I hope he can’t tell I was bored/
“Congratulations, Mr. Raiford and welcome aboard”. (Thank you) /
Where the hell is my tour and taking workcations abroad/
Ain’t really started but I already hate my job! /

Gotta be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x 3)
Gotta be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x3)

( Man I can’t even go with you guys today, man
I wish I could do it. To be completely honest, I have to go to this stupid—
I have to go to this stupid job, man. *dap*
I will see you later, let me know how it goes. )

Make my lunch. Set alarms/
Get two forms of identification for them tomorrow/
Take a shower, brush my teeth/
Read the bible with my girl and take my butt to sleep/
See, seconds turn to minutes. Couple minutes turn to thirty/
With anxiousness, I’m afflicted. Mentally, I am with worry/
Tossing, turning up under the comforter/
Adjustin’ the, cover, still no slumber comes. Still woke/
Nyquil from the cabinent, lacks thee/
Ability to render me unconscious. Thoughts just process/
Socks is hot I’m fidgeting them off me/
Air conditioner is off-beat, antithesis of frosty/
Soon as I notice I’m dozin’, my eyes were open/
I’ve run out of damn sheep, the start of a bad week/
I can’t sleep/
Can’t sleep (x 5)

(Yawns)

*Alarm clock*
(Ahh. Damn. *Yawns* What time is it? *Yawn* Ah, man. Oh sh— ah, ah damn . I gotta, I gotta work! Ah man. )

7:29 in the morning, I’m ironing clothes. Jaded/
Find my composure and slide through the door/
Ride for an hour or so to the town where its lo-cated/
‘Til I’m caught in traffic, speedin’ dodgin’ cops that’s armed with Radar cameras/
Treat my car like target practice/
Let my foot up off the gas, ‘n pass ‘em/
Mash the peddle down, a revvin’ sound ensues/
I’ma rebel now, my dude!/
Un-leveled ground, I felt some altitude. My boo text out the blue and said “I’m proud of you.”/
Sounds like the job I wound up choosin’, ‘bout to ally-oop some Power U/
That’ll be ass-stounding, ooooohh!/
I deserve it, damn. Instead of feelin’ cursed by my financial circumstance/
Killed off my ego and returned being a workin’ man/
Spilled cappuccino on my business casual shirt and pants/
Hit the bathroom,rinse it out.Let paper towels work it’s magic.Coffee spots is sure to vanish,don’t dab it/
“You blot that shit!”
I should be rockin’ ‘cross interstates/
Instead of riskin’ takin’ bread off of my dinner plate, because I clocked in a minute late/
General managers rubbing opulence in your face/
Putting customer data into this shotty-ass interface/
Too raw for this call center, processing claims/
Weekly direct deposit creates a false sense of pay/
But it’s hard to complain when not many have an occupation/
How could I not be thankful? Plus it funds my career/

Be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x 3)
Gotta be a grown man and get a gig, well I suppose
Who the hell wants to be responsible? (x3)

(Me, man. *Lauhgs* “Hard head makes a soft ass”, is what they say. Not tryin’ to do one step forward, two steps back. Run on. Run on a treadmill all day. Work hard or work smart? You tell me.)

Wants to be responsible
Who the hell wants to be responsible (x 8)
(Uh. Uh Uh. Uh. Yeah. Grow up. GROW UP! Yeah. Uh. Uh. Uh. Wake up from your dream! You hear? Uh. Arza, what up? Writer’s. )
Track Name: Too Cool
[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

[RoQy TyRaiD]
I’m from the land of conservative politicians, discriminating bills/
Shitty sports organizations, a morgue for entertainers/
The cost of living is permissive of commissions that wane/
‘Til they’re devoid of finding options, a glorified hospice/
Forgot who the hell they is/
‘Til niggas fall off harder than Tony Scott off an LA bridge/
Hostin’ local shows for preservation/
Lowered expectation, you should’ve chose a form of education/
Success run dry, denials ugly/
Relive your glory days at Polk High, you Al Bundy/
That’s why you’re miserable/
Tryin hard to look like he live above y’all/
Type of nigga think he ballin’ with a Rush Card/
Twenty dollar jewelry that he discovered at a bus stop, niggas is duck sauce/
Instead of dissin’ young artists, you should try vibin’/
Your studio smell like moth balls and white diamonds/
Instead of passin’ the torch/
You spend your cash on that crap in the back of The Source/
That’s why your geriatric ass is lackin’ support/
Live off the merit of your pass, but ill-prepared to spaz/
For your success, an epitaph/
You’re like Morris Day, you let The Time define you/
Steady sit on your behind like the grind will find you/
Shout out to my veterans with integrity/
Your self-respect is a testament to your legacy/
UGH!
[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

[RoQy TyRaiD]
You talked trash for years but now attempt to give me dap/
Because my team comprised of people who have actual careers/
You male groupies can go to hell. Don’t make me air you out/
This ain’t the Men’s Warehouse, get the fuck off my coattail/
Claim that you’re a thug, who’s earning change from slangin’ drugs/
And actin lame by runnin’ game on niggas’ famous, in the club/
Probably ask about his chain and what he drank to get his buzzed/
And droppin’ names to make it seem like you ain’t aimin’ for a plug/
Think you tough, but energetically pursue and try to best friend ‘em/
We ain’t by what you pull and who’s a fresh dresser/
Suggestin’ you’re procuring expenses.. SURE!/
You’re insecurer than a Tiger Woods text message/
Not only that, but your music suck/
Unfortunately for you, this “groupie love” ain’t redeemable at Best Westerns/
So stop standin’ by the guest entrance/
Behind every Million Dollar Broke Rapper’s a depressed nigga!/

[Mystic Blu]
Oooh, when are you gonna let it go? We never gon’ know. Hmmm
Niggas think they Too Cool, but look at them, though. Heyyy
Because your ass is so damn prideful, it must be compensation
Wait up, look-it here
Who you think you’re foolin’

Who you think you’re foolin’ (x3)
Niggas think they too cool (x2)
When are you going to let, let, let it gooo (x2)
Heeyyy, aye aye aye (x 3)
Hmmmmmm
Track Name: Elysium
[Proximo]
So, after five years of scratching a living in flea infested villages, we’re finally going back to where we belong. The colosseum. *Inhales* Oh, you should see the colosseum, Spaniard. Fifty-thousand romans; watching. every movement of your sword. Willing you to make that killer blow. The silence before you strike. And the noise afterwards. It rises, it rise up like – a storm. As if you were the Thunder God, himself

[Maximus] You were a gladiator?
[Proximo] Yes, I was..
[TyRaiD]
Slago, what up?
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin like LB in they prime and ya, “ya can’t stop me. No, ya can’t stop me!”
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin’ like J League in they prime, nigga!
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes!

Yo, disrespecters get dissected and severed apart/
Separate sections buried in several spots/
I’m thirty minutes into seven o’clock/
Terminal with the text, I’m surgical with the sentence, where the hell is my medical garb?! /
Earning frequent flyer rapid rewards/
Playin’ connect the dot with the map, rappin on tours/
The Arizona assassin brandishin’ swords/
Your patterns bore me, more annoying than that black chick who sang for Sanderson Ford/
Your lines bogus, lyin’ bout ridin’ Porsches/
Self-entitled nonsense, get off your high horses/
Or I’ll dismount you coons/
I’ll crash through windows, grab you, make us do a somersault, and throw you out the room/
You stupid bastards and beyond raw/
I run up on unsuspecting rappers, harassin’ them like the Nardwuar/
RoQ’s the Incredible Hulk in your concert speakers/
Fieldgoalin’ Volkswagen Beetles, flingin’ parking meters/
Eatin’ weak emcees with Chianti and Farver Beans/
I hate you niggas like my mama’s Paula Deen/
I scoff at your exhausted dreams/
Presenting intellectual art for this garbage scene, for listening to these bars, I should charge a fee/
I’ll make a killing in the game, like Aaron Hernandez/
I wrote this lyric in my brain while preparing a sandwich/
Every parable’s savage, veritable classic/
You squares better stay in your lane for a fairer advantage/
Instead of kissing butts over customer service/
This suburban brotha hustles like corrupt ushers in southern churches/
‘Til my buzz is perfect. Derek Fish in the clutch/
Too many lames around the table, that’s Dinner With Schmucks/
I laugh at these clowns, pass your bag and piece out/
Or I’ll dispatch of thee, Japanese Samurai style, you ain’t “active” you’re Action League Now/
The rebirth of thee herb/
M.O.B. t-shirts, skinny jean squeezers, pretending to be nerds/
You better do your research, or you’ll be desert/
You critics eat dirt, like Roger Ebert, you obsolete jerk/
Throw pedals on my feet, like I’m parading through Ancient Rome/
Greet me with a mini-me Khaleesi from the Game of Thrones/
It’s safe to say, I made my bones/
Me and my age bracket brought dope ass rappin’ back from the endangered zone/
What you niggas listenin’ to is the changin of guards/
Eighties babies, nineties kids, the head of the table is ours/
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin like LB in they prime and ya, “ya can’t stop me. No, ya can’t stop me!”
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin’ like J League in they prime, nigga!
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes!

[Proximo]
I wasn’t the best because I killed quickly. I was the best because the crowd loved me. Win the crowd and you’ll win your freedom
[Maximus]
I will give them something they have never seen before

[TyRaiD]
For this whole duration, you’re my slaves. No escapin’ the fathoms of my imagination/
I’m to cyphers what Manhattan is to Patrick Bateman/
When it comes to rhymin’, I am vengeful/
Disembowel rappers, throw they sacrificial asses down the stairs of Mayan Temples/
My British fans like “man, you’re mental. You’re whole project is monumental/
You’re the type of artist that has potential” /
My socket’s loose, I’m Doctor Doom, shockin’ you pompous coons/
Drop the mic and grip a mop and broom, you’ve not improved/
Your concert’s full of constant “BOO!” s/
Everybody wants to leave, like when Chris Bosh’s in a locker room/
Ominous plots for depositin’ guap/
Generic tats, saggin’ women’s pants, you look like Androgynous Pac/
Who you slain raw, hustlin’ trees/
You grew up playing pogs, watchin’ My Brother and Me/
You see, I don’t believe in leisure, I’ve got a comfortable lead/
It’s R-O-Q-Y, T-Y-R-A-I-D! One more time/

Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin like LB in they prime and ya, “ya can’t stop me. No, ya can’t stop me!”
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes! (x2)
Gotta nigga feelin’ like J League in they prime, nigga!
Give me dope beats, dope mothafuckin’ rhymes!

[Proximo]
So, Spaniard, we shall go to Rome together and have bloody adventures! And the great whore will suckle us until we are fat and hungry, and can suckle no more. And then, when enough men have died – perhaps you will have your freedom
Track Name: Initials In The Sky
[RoQy TyRaiD]
Go
Uh. Yeah

Long time, long time, long time comin’
We live and die to write Initials In The Sky, run it
I want what’s mine, run it , I want what’s mine
To live everything’s on the line, don’t front on mine
No, no no no
(X2)
Messed with _____________ for a second learned some lessons, quick/
Just ‘cuz you’re a legend doesn’t mean you’re getting’ record spins/
Benefits, no evidence. Pretentiousness temperament. Negligence, resented it/
Work ethic’s in question, so I exited/
Burnt a couple connects because it’s president – “so called” /
Progression’s a requisite and you’re directionless – so long/
Only mentioned this because you’re negative/
‘Cuz of relation, was rejected by my fellow residents/
Wrong to say but y’all were lazy, so I made my exodus/
Back to back to basics, a free agent once I started networkin’/
For real though, fuck waitin’ ‘til hell froze/
Knapsack over my shoulder I strolled down the railroad to wherever the trail goes/
Ensure that my tale’s told by the scuff of my shelltoes/
Cuts in my elbows, and musk in my stale clothes/
And dust in my hair but I’ll prevail, though/
Recalibrated every error, name somethin’ I ain’t prepared for/
Yooooo

Long time, long time, long time comin’
We live and die to write Initials In The Sky, run it
I want what’s mine, run it , I want what’s mine
To live everything’s on the line, don’t front on mine
No, no no no
(X2)

To live our dream, everything’s on the line, don’t front on mine (x2)
To live our dream, everything to live our uh-uh-uh
To live our dream, everything’s on the line, don’t front on mine (x2)
To live our dream, every-uh, to live our, yeah
To live our, yeah, yeah, yeah
..Yeah
Track Name: The RaiD
[Cmd. James Prince]
I found where the hell this “New Millennium Man” is at. I want you fuckers to kick his ass right the fuck now!

[RoQy TyRaiD]
The bounty on you average joe’s been handed. [Cmd. James Prince] Here’s the pamphlet!/
Comin’ for your cabbage like I’m standing on a grassy knoll in Dallas/
The afternoon when Jackie O was frantic [Cmd. James Prince] Now vanish!/
My talent is a tactical advantage. Brand him/
[Cmd. James Prince] The San Diego, California Maverick/
The Alphabet Assassin, from Alpharetta to Athens/
[RoQy TyRaiD] Alexandria, Alabama, Amrillo, to Aspens/
In a mansion, with a latin, with Apollonia’s assets/
With a Colombian accent, folded over the mattress that’s when/
A canister crashed through the window landed on a pillow, smoke billowed/
Choking, noticed beeping at an increasing lower tempo/
I grabbed shorty and jumped clear of the explosion (GET LOW!)/
The concussive destruction shoved me down the hallway/
Knocked me over the railing on top a piano, yet nothing impaled me/
I felt blessed but still undressed. Looked up and saw a silhouette/
I heard a scream, a shot, and [Cmd. James Prince] “Your Next!”/
[RoQy TyRaiD] Seems the hunter has become hunted, one hundred cold blooded assassins/
Surrounded the residence, my challengers impotent/
What they started, I’m undoubtedly finishin’ /
They started rappelling down in the premises/
“You cowards are feminine!” I venomously taunted/
As machine guns riddled and cases littered the carpet/
I used the kitchen island for a shield until I feel the clip’s exhausted/
Then with caution, I retrieve my desert eagle from the cabinent/
Palmed it, cocked the slider and fired back/
One. Two. Three. Four guys expired flat/
The others ducked for cover, started hiding fast, their entire attires black/
Faces behind bio masks in order to survive the gas/
Despise firearms, only relied upon when I’m in dire harm/
I lit a match under the fire alarm/
Nozzles spraying water like a violent storm/
Light fixtures flicking off and on in the quiet hall/
One guy one guy jumped behind the wall and cover fired so his squad could attack/
I dodged, jumped, shot and put a hydroshock through his mask/
He obviously passed, I’m honestly trapped/
More are getting through the entrances I leave fast. I move with purpose/
Renewed with courage, removed the tool hidden beneath maroonish curtains/
A beaucoup ginsu and resumed to lurkin/
From the show I commence the pain, I dismember frames/
Coup de grace slash, blood splash on the window frame/
I wash blade in the artificial rain/
From the yard I heard “charge” from the brigade/
Tried blocking my escape by shining flood lights down on my estate/
Into the house, through the couches, rifle rounds, penetrate/
Dodging bullets, I slid to the northwest pillar and put my hands against it/
Retinal scanner, a secret command was whispered/
*Acknowledged* The silent self-destruction secret timer reading t-minus three minutes and declining/
I’m out this/
A panel opened exposing a human-sized capsule/
I stepped inside it and it closed after/
Blasted the escape container through the tunnel below/
Blood rushing to my brain (wooaah!), stomach in throat /
Light streak by the pneumatic tube I’m trapped in/
Emerged in a cavern under the mansion they sackin/
Minute thirty seconds until detonation/
I grab my gear and jumped in the cockpit of a jet awaiting/
I start my engine, never mind a check/
The afterburner shot my down the fighter deck to compensate for time that’s left/
Secret entrance opened, I flew out of the whole/
Swat Kats style as the whole palace explodes (PEACE!) *Explosion*/
And all those in my home at that moment had died/
And those who were posted outside were too close to survive/
Survey the wreckage from my jet, as I pressed through the sky/
I know the person who wants me murdered but the question is—“why? “/
Track Name: Idiot Box
[RoQy]
And for the next segment, we join an average American household on an average evening

Wholesome foods, the clanking of forks and spoons/
Family dinner table, the ambience, local news/
Candidly educative, ‘cuz anchors expose the truth/
Tragically, this has changed up, a decade or so or two/
Nothing but content for contemporary reporters who/
Negated significant information to your confusion/
Overly opinionated anchors withhold the truth/
Statements equivocated, we’re slaves to their point of view/
The stations divert you from pertinent issues, purposely/
Laden with entertainment related articles, personally/
Certain nothing’s an accident, from their scare tactics/
Interchangeable anchors with homogenized accents/
All props due MSNBCNN, demographs are “democrats”/
And “bigots watch fox news”/
Why is life so black and white? Left or right?/
Politicians use the same messages in different lights, same religions, different Christs/
Subtle racism is commonplace/
Even before 9-11, people of Islamic faith/
Treated like their evil and they’ll bomb the place/
“Same with Mexican illegals in the Copper State/
This TV teach your mind to hate/
All these correspondents are just proper talking actors/
Preaching beneficiaries’ propaganda, cannot/
Blindly follow what they sellin’ on the teleprompter/
The fat lady screams the devil’s opera, I’m watchin’/
The Idiot Box, uh, The Idiot Box
Rarely something of substance but we consistently watch
It is the northern star of ignorance, in living rooms dark
But you’ll feel cut off from the whole world the minute it’s off
This is The Idiot Box, I’m watching The Idiot Box
Fillin’ my head with irrelevance at whatever o’clock
A detriment to intelligence if depended a lot
The day it eats away, either way I’ll continue to watch..

The History Channel with a grain of salt/
Egyptians depicted as light skinned, unless they explain their cults (Hmm)/
Suddenly, it’s chocolate city, cue the ominous music/
“And smokey dimly-lit rooms built for ritual uses/
Subtly teaching “lighter is righter and blacker is badder/
And how many Hitler shows do you have on this channel?!/
Stop romanticizing Nazism/
Your version of American History is contradictive, listen/
Jefferson ain’t build America, his slaves did/
You gave plague filled blankets to the natives/
During both World War, we would trade with/
The enemy, a pretty penny for our bankers/
They don’t talk about incestrial royal families which are still around/
Like Her Majesty’s Royal Crown (oops!)/
More facts, less fiction, less myths in your topics/
And spare me the Washington “cherry tree” nonsense/


Everything’s a lie/
What would the future say of leaders who conveniently died/
Who had oil in their region that they’d keep to the side/
For their own people “who need freedom”, so we’d frequently spy/
It’s a shame, how we campaign/
We went from playing Call of Duty, to a tour of one/
And dodging bullets like – Max Payne (pew!)/
It’s not a damn game/
History Channel, Holocaust isn’t Anne Frank/
It’s dying of typhoid, ‘cuz you can’t bathe!/
Rats, and flees, internment camps/
Though, not as bad, we did similar acts to the Japanese!/
Makeshift cots, where they had to sleep/
Sticky rice and apricots, what is that to eat/
Attempt to sweep that part of history under the rug/
Like the truth about Reagan’s little “War On Drugs”/
And the most probable reason they robbed Kennedy of life/
‘Cuz he had some integrity and shed a little bit of life, get it right/

The Idiot Box, uh, The Idiot Box
Rarely something of substance but we consistently watch
It is the northern star of ignorance, in living rooms dark
But you’ll feel cut off from the whole world the minute it’s off
This is The Idiot Box, I’m watching The Idiot Box
Fillin’ my head with irrelevance at whatever o’clock
A detriment to intelligence if depended a lot
The day it eats away, either way, disconnect it I’ll not

This The Idiot Box uh
The Idiot Box uh (x4)
The Idiot Box
Fillin’ my head with irrelevance at whatever o’clock
This The Idiot Box uh
The Idiot Box uh (x4)
The Idiot Box
The day it eats away, either way, disconnect it I’ll not

*psshhhh brrrrrrrr* This is not a test. Do not touch your dial
*psshhhhh brrrrrr psshhhhhhh* This has been your emergency broadcast system
You can now return to thinking independently

Turn off your damn TV for once..
Track Name: Elevator Song
[RoQy TyRaiD]
Dadadada-dadadada (x7)
Da-da Where am I going now?

Enter in the elevator and about face/
Select the level that I’m exiting as I hang/
Suspended in an empty metal oversize safe/
Ascension will begin the second that I press 8 uh/
Feel the jerk as the gears turn/
Twistin’ the vehicles mirrors and the wheels all smeared/
Slight tremors as light flickers/
Under my nikes is a slight pressure, fright sets in, I question/
The safety of antiquated contrapments/
If the cable should snap, the basement a fatal impact with/
Uneven “pings” of the floors as I rolled past/
Impatiently pressing the button like it’ll goes fast/
Ominous hums of the motor metallic odor/
Why the hell ain’t this out of order, on the floor I done found a quarter (Nice!)/
Picked it up from the beige carpet/
Under a gray splotch, mysterious stains dot it/
Panels displays markings, engravings of gangs crossing/
Neighborhood names off, conveying sustained conflict/
Balanced in the sky, gravity defied/
Too high for the faculty to climb, should challenges arrive/
Either trapped or I tragically will die/
I arrived, say goodbye to this raggedy-ass ride/
That was fast..
Track Name: Hey You!
[Intro]
I got this one..

[Intro Hook]
Hey You, let’s get down! (x 4)
I said Hey You, let’s get down!
(Chant) Hey You, let’s get down!
(RoQy) I tip my hat for investin’ time
By comin’ out, without doubt, I’m the best in town..
[Verse 1]
Uh, right now I drive an automatic, honestly I’d rather drive stick. When I hear this song on/
Started actin’ all erratic, speedin’ like the cameras don’t exist. If you hear a honked horn/
Better scoot out my path I’m movin’ like a bat up outta hell. Think I better slow down/
If patrolmen ever catch up, honestly I’d probably go to jail with the quickness/
I would be finished/
If I believed in the speed limit, I would take heed in the beginnin’/
I don’t need prison/
Or at least my ID getting relinquished, end up with a steep ticket/
Have your registration on ya, they straight pinoche/
Watch for the racial profile, anxious/
Low patience for slow pacin’/
I race to the location like double-o agents/
Smashin’ Porsche Phantoms, Rolls, and Aston Roadster/
Cash is shorter than George Costanza/
Hella expensive, I’ll settle for Sentras, no sense in pretendin’/
I’m not in collections/
With financial limits, my progress is hindered/
Got problems with rent because I’m independent/
Yes, it’s true that I’m short with cash/
But if you’re new and just tuned in “The Culture’s Back” /

[Hook]
From the booth, to the block, to the venue
Rinse and repeat, ‘til I prove my worth
People, if you feel me raise your freakin’ hands up
Throw ‘em in the air ‘til your elbow hurts
Wanna see ya hands up, better pay attention
Homie better put away your cell phone, jerk
If you’re holdin a camera, I’ll pose in a stance
Now jump up and down ‘til you move that Earth

Everybody say Hey You, let’s get down!
(Chant) Hey You, let’s get down!
(RoQy) Say Hey You, let’s get down!
(Chant) Hey You, let’s get down!
(RoQy) Everybody say Hey You, let’s get down!
I tip my hat for investin’ time
By comin’ out, without doubt, I’m the best in town

[Verse 2]
Time time ain’t currency to waste, urgencies a trait/
Burn the Interstate like I’m thirty minutes late, give or take/
Top speed, RoQ McQueen, off the exit I haul/
Laugh at all traffic laws , I /
Shot by like The Mach Five/
Sharp eye for the narcs in the cop ride on the far right/
In the lot in the dark side by the Popeye’s/
You’ll get stopped if your car fly through the stop sign/
Authorities arrestin’ for bold offences/
Blow the intersection with no discretion/
The road in each direction, upon assessment/
Devoid of any vessels, there’s no pedestrians/
The foot pedal smacks on the car floor/
Wheels spinnin’ like backs on a cardboard/
The Eighties turned a fad to an art form/
Everybody show your ass, get involved more!/

[Bridge]
I’m bout to bust somethin’
Form a circle for me
I’m bout to bust somethin’
I’ll form a circle for you
I’ma bust somethin’
Form a circle for me
I’m bout to bust somethin’
I’ll form a circle for you
I’ma bust somethin’
Form a circle for me
I’m bout to bust somethin’
I’ll form a circle for you, for you, HEY YOU!

[Verse 3]
If I had a dollar every time somebody labeled me a screw up/
Or claimed that I’m a loser/
Sayin’ I’m a waste of a medulla, unstable as a suitor/
Probably have more paper than a tutor hmmm/
No understandin’ why the plans of mine so damn devine/
The grams of the sands of time had passed to find/
Their laughter and slander died/
Their fans of my grand design, don’t act surprised/

[Hook]
From the booth, to the block, to the venue
Rinse and repeat, ‘til I prove my worth
Now people, if you feel me raise your freakin’ hands up
Throw ‘em in the air ‘til your elbow hurts
Wanna see ya hands up, better pay attention
Homie better put away your cell phone, jerk
If you’re holdin a camera, I’ll pose in a stance
Now jump up and down ‘til you move that Earth

Everybody say Hey You, let’s get down!
(Chant) Hey You, let’s get down!
(RoQy) Say Hey You, let’s get down!
(Chant) Hey You, let’s get down!
(RoQy) Everybody say Hey You, let’s get down!
I tip my hat for investin’ time
By comin’ out, without doubt, I’m the best in town like UGHHHHH!!
Track Name: Crown Me
[RoQy TyRaiD]

Crown Me!
I don’t care about publicity!
Crown Me!
I don’t care about the size of your team!
Crown Me!
I don’t care about your marketing team!
Crown Me!
I don’t care if you’re a star overseas!
Crown Me!
I don’t care how many blogs you’ve been seen!
Crown Me!
You rap niggas ain’t as raw as you think!
Crown Me!
You rap niggas ain’t as raw as you think!
Crown Me!
You rap niggas better bow to me!
Yeah, Yeah
You rap niggas better bow to me!
Crown Me!
You rap niggas better bow to me!
Crown Me!
You rap niggas better bow ot me!
Crown Me!
(Laughter)
Adorned in ceremonial robes that’s flowin’ over my shoulders/
The Throne approaches/
Royal Doormen showin’ respect had lowered their heads and uncrossed their swords formal motion/
The room is quiet and the floor is open/
Dignitaries from various foreign areas arose from their chair/
Traditional clothes for this formal affair/
The choir was told to sing as the ominous organs played/
A random heckler’s gagged shackled and dragged away/
New dawn, new day, New King, better follow orders/
You paupers toss a stone at The Castle, I’ll drop a boulder/
More malice in me than a Palestinian’s violent lineage/
Surroundin’ Israel’s callous minister’s coward minions/
Rappers call themselves “The Don” like the Godfather? HA! /
I call myself “The Dawn”, ‘cuz I rob darkness/
Ya’ll revolve around Amen-Ra/
I’m Akira, you’re just Kaneda, I catch tank bullets/
Nothing’s deadlier than envious friends upset their surpassed/
You, threw me to the wolves, I returned the head of the pack/
With animalistic traits, I’m Hannibal at the gates/
My feelings of amicability have been erased/
Apparently, I’m misanthropic. Let’s skip to a different topic/
Niggas is remiss of logic, if they feel convinced I lost it/
With your narcissistic self-proclamations ‘bout how your records got the net buzzin’/
You couldn’t “change the game” with an eject button/
Generic tats, stupid glasses/
And emasculate skinny pants that were made for dancing in Zumba classes/
Kiss my Vans, tell me who’s master/
I’m disgusted, dog/
You’re like the Pam Oliver weave of struggle bars/
I am Amen Hotep with a fro pick/
Descended from Kemetic genetics and So West/
Thee, Lakers’ Purple and Gold are my royal garbs/
The Five Elements of Hip-Hop are my Coat of Arms. Crown Me!/
Enemies of the squad’s fate share the similarities of the Kennedys and Starks/
Crown Me!
Deaded relationships won’t equate to a loss of profit/
Burn a bridge? Dam the river upstream and walk across it/
Chess master after bread baskets/
Like Boba Fett clutchin’ on blasters and jet packs you/
Veterans losin’ your grip, dudes remind me of dog shows/
Same boring routines, different day, same shit-zu/
Most of my favorite rappers lost their hunger, now their rhymes weak/
Save them phoned in performances for Live Links/
Niggas garbage I trample simple artists like Simba’s father after falling backwards/
Grow problematic, I’ll Scar you bastards/
I am King, fro’s untamed like a lion’s mane/
Pride and primal rage, no asylum until rhymin’ pays/
No earrings, chains or bracelets/
Only grill I’ll ever consider gettin’ is braces. Crown Me!/
I push the Sentra like an Emperor, little honesty don’t bother me, dog/
A prodigy whippin’ economy cars/
Sway admitted I’m dope/
If this beat is Captain Phillips, I’m Muse on the fisherman’s boat/
Challengers be damned if they plan to resist/
They panic and abandon they ship/
They scared stiffer than mannequin tits heh/
Ya’ll must have time to waste, you’ll capsize before you “ride the wave”/
If there’s “levels to this shit”, then I’m the final stage/
Ya’ll better Crown Me..

Crown Me! (x6)
Track Name: Wage Slave
[RoQy TyRaiD]
Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straight away

Think I may call in sick/
FMLA, get off this dick/
Runnin’ kinda late with that bonus chip/
Resolve that quick, or I’m gon’ quit/
No I won’t cuz it don’t make sense/
If I walk out the door, I won’t make rent/
No chance I’m escaping’ , plus I hate fillin’ out Applications. Dead broke/
No cash, won’t last with a lapse of employment/
Overstaff turn around of employment’s bad/
This job sucks, disgusting potlucks/
Patience counts/
Once I accumulate vacation hours, then I’ll get away I made that vow/
‘Til this happens I’ll just relapse during Happy Hour/
Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straight away
GO!
Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straightaway

I will not - participate in Hawaii shirt Friday/
Not – get your attention if I see you on the highway/
Not – trade shifts with you, do not forward that email my way/
Don’t care who came to visit, pay me in Lakers tickets/
Be prepared in case you’re denied/
I don’t really care for no overtime/
According to my boss, I can only work ‘til nine/
Told the HR jerk a lie/
Like I had another job bogus right/
In order to rap need a social life/
Trade shifts when I leave my job/
And do thee Amazing like Peter Parker, so/

Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straight away
GO!
Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straightaway

Hard to tour with a 9-5/
Plots devised so that I got some time off/
Excuses used, they were not the wiser/
Death In The Family, Aunt Jemima/
Office hot employees, acclimate to their standards/
Takin’ the chances you unafraid of claims of harassment/
If she think there ain’t respect you could be cleaning out your desk/
You blind as a bat, she look like Sweet Brown and I ain’t got time for that/
President of the company hates you, got caught/
Text messaging under the table, last shot/
On ya final warning/
Coming in buzzed at nine in the morning, stop that/

Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straight away
GO!
Make way for the Wage Slave
Boilin’ that oil ‘til the break of day
For those who toil at their employment to make their pay
Once yall get off turn that parking lot to a straightaway
Track Name: Million Dollar View
[RoQy TyRaiD]
Could’ve almost heard the clankin’ of the rollercoaster chain/
An uncontrollable ascent, anticipation doesn’t wane/
There’s been no patience or restraint just/
Anxious what awaits us/
Affirmations of a great love/
Or hatred and disdain from/
Takin’ the risks to brave through the issues/
Scars that we own are enormous/
Two social rejects, emotional defects, we’ve noticed/
You told me proceed with caution and discretion/
We all have problems girl, it’s part of your perfection, accept them/
Only way to change your tendencies, I’m the same with negativity/
You’ll stray but it takes persistency, you’ll struggle but who’s judgin’ ?/
You do love this. It’s priceless, euphoria excitement/
So much so, we fanaticized forming someone in our likeness/
Damn, what an incredible ride/
And the hell with any errors that develop in time, we’ll cope with it/
We’re just coastin’, higher than our dreams are/
Soon as our problems evolve, we devolve, free fall, hold on!/

And up and down, up and down we go (x2)
And when we finally reach that high?
[Sample] It looks to me, like a Million Dollar View
[RoQy TyRaiD] then we go low
And up and down, up and down we go
And up and down, up and down we go (x2)
And when we finally reach that high?
[Sample] It looks to me, like a Million Dollar View
[RoQy TyRaiD] Down again..
This level of elevation can be hella dangerous/
Compelled to quell this anxiousness with deceleration, changes/
Down we move to an altitude safer/
If we even slightly feeling sour, we spiral and break up/
With clarity, we rebound. Apparently, we see now/
How complex is our connection, though fraught with depression/
Cold feet had culminated and caused my aggression/
And said some shit I never meant, now she’s on the defensive/
This rush is, like a drug, I’m convinced of why/
Exactly like addicts in search of an initial high/
One minute we’re closer than chromosomes and in the next we’re ghostin’/
Hoping for some sort of closure over mobile phones/
I love this girl, but she’s unstable as shit/
But call her “crazy” and I’m breaking your ribs, like “who the fuck are you?!”/
This time I know it’s over, unless we change our minds/
But why do those afraid of heights ride rollercoasters/

And up and down, up and down we go (x2)
And when we finally reach that high?
[Sample] It looks to me, like a Million Dollar View
[RoQy TyRaiD] then we go low
And up and down, up and down we go
And up and down, up and down we go (x2)
And when we finally reach that high?
[Sample] It looks to me, like a Million Dollar View
[RoQy TyRaiD] Down again..
Track Name: Kenny Powers
[TyRaiD]
I am your Hendrix! I AM YOUR HENDRIX!!
(You are the guitar!!)

The beat is my fire!
Da da da daaa nanananananaaa x3

Uh uh uh uh.. uh uh

Sire is my title, I require you to kneel/
Outshined is how you're liable to feel/
Rival artists' desire for survival's unfulfilled/
As far as cyphers, I'm the rhymin' darker, Fire Marshall Bill, it's why I am offered deals/
‘Tho subsequently "turn down services"/
Like hotel custodial servants that's slavin over minimal wage with work permits/
You've never heard of this sort of malnourishment, unbridled fervor/
Circumventing deterrents, impervious I'm determined to/
Turn my Honda Accord to Bahama Resorts/
Perpetually spending checks ON APARTMENT PROPERTY'S NOT FOR ME, BOY!/
WATCH FOR DECOYS!! HIP HOP, THEY EXPLOIT, IT'S GOT ME ANNOYED!!/
YOUR ART IS A POOR AND OBVIOUS CHOICE, NOT TO BE COY!! but uh/
They can't stand it, I'm a damn savage/
I get it crackin' like the whip on "vwananaaaaaaa, Jack Bandit"/
Crash landed on a planet full of rachets/
Where the alpha males are branded by their swagger/
Generic tats and status as a rapper/
Their lackin’ of romantic interaction, a sacrilege to African Diaspora/
Same clichés as usual, you "emcee's of the hour" are pathetically delusional.. Kenny FUCKIN POWERS!! /
You dudes isn't nice/
My flow's a dirtier Fukushima Pipes, you ain't a shooter, you're the studious type/
How you provin’ you're accruing gratuitous loot/
For "movin’ the white" at a lucrative price/
Or "screwin’ a slew of groupies as fly as a stewardess' life"/
"Fake it 'til you make it" 's stupid advice, YOU LOSERS CAN KISS MY GLUTEUS, TWICE!!/
AVERAGE JOE, CAP OVER MY NAPPY FRO!!/
YOU RAPPERS ARE LIKE CASSEROLE'S. I'M FAMISHED, SO YOU HAVE TO GO!!/
IF YOU'RE A RAPPER (Let It Go!)/
"My style is impetuous, my defense is impregnable"/
I'm back SPINNIN’ ON A BED OF COALS!!/
Pain and Anger, disdain and danger.as gifted as a Baby's Manger/
Naturalist on the Mic, I should've became an Anchor/
My scar's prevalent/
Should be chillin in a spa, with a cigar, watchin’ TV like "C'mon Pelican!" (OKAY!) /
I'm.. sick as the floor in the medical ward/
Swingin’ the General's sword, no sense in defending your fort/
The hell did you tell to conform and bare no intelligent form?/
I'll never neglect my supporter's mental development for a check! /
Welcome to Jumanji.. Lions, Tigers, and Snakes/
The Deeper I get in this music biz, the higher the stakes/
Track Name: Dom Cobb
[RoQy TyRaiD]
I’m Dominick Cobb when that ominous top is spinnin’/
Submerged within thoughts, with earth I contrived a difference/
In search of Catharsis to purge all my problems with it/
Dreamt it or non-fiction, partner it’s my business/
Freeze frame mid-air, tattered clothes and cracked glass/
Blink of an eye, ground approaches that fast/
I’m back, I landed on my fist and kneecap/
Amidst, the crater and the mist, a King stands/
It’s The New Millennium Man all combatants fall/
I kick a simple nigga through a car into a granite wall and grab my balls/
I stabbed my flag atop the Matterhorn/
A Taurus, I ran my horn inside the matador/
Conformists. Construction foiled by the saboteur/
We lure ‘em. Amontillado and a plaster wall/
The horrors , of my imagination’s labyrinth all/
Antagonists’ll vanish, add their caskets to my catalog/
Inception, I’m protected my projections of my inner demons/
And reflections of aggression and uncivil reasonin’ /
Takes more than this session to confess upon my inner secrets/
And recollections I can’t delve into for legal reasons/
For you the stakes is raised, if I feel that my space’s invaded/
This place is changin’ [wake up!] , physical plane is cavin’ [wake up!] /
This my world, you just live in it/
Residency relinquishment’s imminent and you ain’t wanted here/

[RoQy TyRaiD]
I don’t think my mind’s something that I want to escape to
Break away from the shackles, unchain the restraints vacate from this caged zoo
I’m certified crazy, I pray that I wake soon
I can’t shake it
[Mega Ran] Okay, wake ‘em up
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it..
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t wakin’..
[Mega Ran] Try harder!
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it!
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t repondin’ !
[RoQy TyRaiD] I CAN’T SHAKE IT!!
[Mega Ran] Dunk ‘em
In a three piece tailored by Alexander Nervousu/
In a deep sleep, takes him away from all that he’s close to/
I tell him count the fabric that makes up a square of carpet/
To ensure that he can discern his location if he’s a target/
Dreamin’ but he’s twitches , so I know he feels it/
Reality and subspace intertwine like double helix and he/
Hits the safe for the documents but I’m not confident/
It’s pressin’, guards approachin’, the wall’s under pressure/
Doesn’t appear to be responsive/
Sinkin’ deeper to his conscious, she watches/
I pray to God that we ain’t lost him/
Gettin’ close to his time, only confined/
By those limitations of his mind/
I’m tryin’ to wake him up, time is takin’ up/
It’s too much, we move up to Defcon 4/
It’s about to be curtains, fate is yet to be determined/
Our only option is submersion, so dunk ‘em/

[RoQy TyRaiD]
I don’t think my mind’s something that I want to escape to
Break away from the shackles, unchain the restraints vacate from this caged zoo
I’m certified crazy, I pray that I wake soon
I can’t shake it
[Mega Ran] Okay, wake ‘em up
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it..
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t wakin’..
[Mega Ran] Try harder!
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it!
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t repondin’ !
[RoQy TyRaiD] I CAN’T SHAKE IT!!
[Mega Ran] Dunk ‘em

[Big Penny]
Wakin’ up in cold sweats, lookin’ all around the noon/
And I’m thinkin’ that it’s morning, but it’s really high noon/
And the wind is blowing hard, I think I’m in a typhoon/
Where the fuck is everybody at? I’m tryin’ to find a clue/
Man, I gotta make moves but my phone is out of service/
Not a person outside, yo, it’s got me feelin’ nervous/
There’s gotta be a purpose, yo, I think I hear screamin’/
And the screams are getting louder, man I think I’m still dreamin’/
At least, I hope I am because those voices sound familiar/
Somethin’ from my younger days and now it’s getting scarier/
Demons from my past life, can’t remember life/
Knuckles all bruised like I got into a fist fight/
Can’t believe my eyesight, my mind is playing tricks/
So, I gotta trust my instincts and try to move quick/
Man I think I’m getting sick, yo, I gotta find a way out/
Somebody let me out before I really start to freak out!/

[RoQy TyRaiD]
I don’t think my mind’s something that I want to escape to
Break away from the shackles, unchain the restraints vacate from this caged zoo
I’m certified crazy, I pray that I wake soon
I can’t shake it
[Mega Ran] Okay, wake ‘em up
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it..
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t wakin’..
[Mega Ran] Try harder!
[RoQy TyRaiD] I can’t shake it!
[Mr. Miranda] He ain’t repondin’ !
[RoQy TyRaiD] I CAN’T SHAKE IT!!
[Mega Ran] Dunk ‘em
Track Name: Catharsis
[RoQy TyRaiD]
Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various realities
Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various realities

[Daniel Plainview] Maybe it’ll change. Maybe no one knows that. A doctor might not know that
[Henry Plainview] That part of me is gone. Working and not succeeding. All my, uh, “failures” have left me—I just don’t care
Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various realities
Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various realities

[Patrick Bateman] And though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours. And maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable. I’m just – not – there

[RoQy TyRaiD] It’s almost over. Dichotomy. What up, Space Ghost?

A starving artist in the truest form/
College quittin’, garnishment from my delinquent. Apartment, little food in home/
Imprisoned. In entry-level hourly positons/
Drown in repetition, hourly commission/
Spittin’ takes precedence if schedule’s concurrent/
Should sickness develop with no medical insurance, endure it/
Gas tank sign flash, state lines surpassed. Relation/
Ship survives via Facetime and Skype, I hate Vine/
My gift is rappin’ trainin’ like Bruce Wayne and Richard Dragon/
Henry Ducard tactics Lucious Fox business practices/
All I need is a mask and The League of Assassins/
Smoke screens for distractions, Nightwing on my team and I’m easily Batman/
A social-introverted hermit who moonlights’ a civil servant/
Perchin’ over ledges, thwartin’ henchmen, formin’ legends/
Takes dedication/
Brethren vacated, pain’s edification/
Never complacent, the hell is “vacation?”/
This track pillagin’ practitioner/
Craft sinister, rap lyrics to attract listeners like black ministers/
I administer wrath, feelings get/
Smashed similar to gas cylinders/
I’m iridescent in your presence, I’m so hungry it’s depressin’/
Your skeleton and flesh are like delicatessens. Blessins/
I lunch on lyricists, Devourer of Worlds/
En Sabah Nur construcin’ Pyramids. The Legend cometh/
Multi-Millennial Kemetic Hunter/
Perfected specimen, genetic wonder/
My life’s depicted in hieroglyphics/
Renaissance artists would draw my picture with European wigs and a lighter out of spite and ignorance/
As a child I was deprived as different/
Deprived of friendships, through rap albums, asylum’s givin’/
Now my concert training process’ similar to Rocky montages/
I sport mics, a darker Bob Costas/
Growin’ in gray hair/
Old enough to have kids on my own, I’m enrolling in daycare or/
Holdin’ over my shoulders while strolling through trade fairs/
Probably die alone and it ain’t fair/
But I flow like the Californian State Bear/
Lost relationships parlay into bar patronage/
Toss change at waitresses, shots chaser-less, fought pain like this/
I’m nice, cyphers get killed with kindness/
Lyrics sharper than experiments by William Stryker. How’s this for silver linin’?!/
Y’all must be ill-advised to feel that my trials can kill my drive/
If hills and mountains yield to skies, than still I rise/
This Chula Vistan with true conviction, eviction to invictus/
Writing’s on the wall, alias superstition, let’s go!/

Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various realities
Duality, Dichotomy, binary personality (x3)
Mental abnormalities, buried within various

Yeah. Show’s over folks. Show’s over
Feelin’ like I’m barefoot walkin’ in the – middle of the summer

[Patrick Bateman] There are no more barriers to cross, there is no Catharsis. This confession – has meant – nothing

[RoQy TyRaiD]
Barefoot walkin’ on the blacktop middle of the summer
Feelin’ like I’m barefoot walkin’ on the blacktop middle of the summer (x2)

Yeah
Track Name: Royale w Cheese
It's bonus, so have fun memorizing this one by replaying it. :D