The Tugboat Complex Pt. 3

(album: Labor Days - 2001)

I can make 'em all dance or I can sleep.
I can walk with a limp and make your step feel incomplete.
People are made of matchsticks, life is bred of flames,
Noted the craftwork bore the last smirk of the Damian mainframe.

My boxcar siphons third rail juice from lost poets.
Inhabit ocean bottom with a bin of rotten scapegoat pardons.
Note to self: don't bargain at martyr parliament rallies
Where participants squeeze in last giggle then widdle sacrificial finales.

I can tie my bootlaces alone, save the knee deep offerings
Sorta brings you coughing bunk persona to light.
I might build anti-malignant railroad, find you and lay tracks adjacent
Just to scream "fuck off" as the engine pulls out the station.

What should we do with a thousand drunken sailors?
Kill 'em all, locate their family address, release a mailer:
"Dear Sir or Madame, your son or daughter's embarrassed human kind
Consuming booze and gut-fuel til their cruise had crossed the line."

I spin gold. He bats a dirty lash toward the nursery class act impressionable bubble.
Ya'll could have been more subtle when polluting paradise gene puddle.
Man, huddles make us look like cool peeps
And I'm trying to school sheep toward the right idea, see ya.

This basic divine subsidiary buffs gunner syllable logic.
Fold origami plantation shut. Does this picket fence tango through your dream, kitten?
You'll probably never hear this song,
Let alone sip the mission long enough to listen.

I smoke cigarettes down to filters, smoke the filter down to space.
Now I'm a roll this question tight and smoke that shit up in your face.
Now if you were to alter masks every time fame circus approaches,
Do you really think your maker wouldn't notice?

Okay, I've died a thousand, and I'll die a thousand more.
I leave footprints in fours, two for bipeds, two more to break the door.
You can practically caress the utterings of crushed by drudgery
Brothers and sisters mothering stickler cabinet, mad and shit.

I'll fix your wing for a penny and a parable.
But this friendship sunk with a barrel full of tarots pulled.
Snake eyes harbor bad shiners,
Then wonder why the cauldron sitting at their rainbows ending rocks garbage bag liners.

I sat to breathe. Adam and Even without the Apple seed's useless.
I sat to breathe. Bashful boredom crafts a castle out of toothpics.
I sat to breathe. I breathed too hard, nearly metamorph castle loose pins.
Now I stand to breathe as not to disturb the plumage.

And I know that sob story. It no longer turns my stomach.
Hollering wolf in the form of one frustrated culprit.
Caught a love tap full of washed up stardom, melted trying to milk it,
Won a ticket to ride white lines highway sideways, knelt it, smelt it.

One love to the rungs in my ladder.
One love to the gathering of laughter baths that hung from my rafters.
See the jackal met the badger, they were both such fucking badasses
That clashing wouldn't make sense, hence my tape deck.

Now I ain't gonna name names, and I ain't gonna drag others in.
But I ain't about to say that I'm the only catch you got bubbling.
You're lucky. Somehow you've managed to befriend some good people
Who'll sit and soak the evils you secrete. But why? I'm not really sure.

Knock knock. Fuck off. Kicking his lip across the floor
Until the archival vinyl venom soaked the lure.
Anti-clarity mechanism spit flattery burners,
Fusing a million majesty murders, then stole your crown.

Oh wait, that's right. You discovered me, right? Offered up the peace pipe.
Then oh it's all cotton candy when Aesop rocked a b-line.
He's acting foolish left in the middle of laying bricks
But we weren't building nothing but a great wall around these stones and sticks.

And for the record I've been rhyming since me and Andre thought we could freestyle.
Built foundation out passion, and brother's dusty Tascam.
Studied dope rappers, vocab expansion, poems, syllable placement,
You just mad because somewhere in there you came and went.

And I ain't the type to dwell. Dismissed it as casually non-compatible and bounced.
Obtained status where I could straight objectively critique you're after projects like
"Oh that sounds fresh." or "Damn that shit is garbage. What happened? I'm not even laughing."
Yeah

But the barriers were broken. You choked a few comments
To the wrong Vulcan who out of respect and honor leaked your program.
Now like, we're both trying to sit and breathe another dawn
So my advice to you is when I say move on, just move on.