I'm perspicacious, just like Admiral Ackbar.
Playing baccarat for apple jacks fuck wack rap stars.
Eatin cocoa butter off my wracked and whipped back scars,
I packed a lip, hacked and spit my soul out on black tar.
We are not the same, I'm ambidextrous.
Used to slap roaches with both hands at breakfast.
Next it's trips uptown in Nana's Lexus,
get dumped in the slums after grandpops flexed his,
plastic biceps mastercard and visa.
Drastic high steps over moaning Mona Lisas.
He's zoning out the creatures,
groaning drones whose features
bemoan the broke beakers
under the game's bleachers.
the worst slice of the American Pie Chart,
shot in black and white and repackaged as high art.
Souls on layaway at generation Y mart.
Life's a dead end, stop running? Nah why start?
credits
from Sorry Nana,
released February 1, 2013
Produced by Beat Sorcerer