Oscillations At 40 Hz.

[Verse 1: Advizer]
Hip hop's like Candy Land, MCs is lawyers chasing ambulances
I'm just here scrambling and panhandling
Watching suckers shatter dancing, playing their mandolins
I'm in my lab cabin, theories dismantling
So as you run your mouth, I chill, sit, and grin
Thinking of all the languages you're illiterate in
Drilling it in my track in my plan
So you know it like the back of my hand, not the smack of my man
Understand I live to rock and flip a lot, don't piss me off
Kids will drop the slick talk when I power trip like a cop
Hell no, I'm not willing to take a bullet for hip hop
Not even willing to lie and say I would just to get props
I'm picking off the blister pops, tossing em at idiots
Shout and hollering bout how they got an album fit to drop
You got a disc in the works? Then spit me your verse
No freestylеs and props, stage show is supposed to be rеhearsed
Confused? Come here, I'll enlighten you, y'all suck the siphon tube
I'm effing up your mind like private school
I do what you'd like to do, you're fake like my passport
Taste the asphalt and picture my grinning face in your last thought
Back talk me, cracked jaw, you'll make a lovely couple
And if I catch y'all ripping that off, well, there's gon be trouble
Impossible, right? Now I know to use a mic
Writing classics at an age where you were confused about life

[Verse 2: Crescent Moon]
I'm feeling used like a paycheck to buy latex
During a gay fest for safe sex and I ain't had a day's rest
I take steps, but can I kick it? You say you're not sure
I can be a lot more persuasive with a broad soar
You claim your thought's pure, but what do you talk for?
Just a nervous sophomore scribbling upon a chalkboard
These raps will be felt and practically melt your chastity belt
You gradually knelt to the faculty's wealth
Well, as a matter of fact, my rap's cracks shattered the glass
On your biodome, beating the hard rocks by a milestone
You better stay in line with them single file flows
You may be picking up a microphone, but all I hear's a dial tone
My style grows with goals to split more people than the Civil War
I hope you got a new lock for that little door on your pillow floor
You cats ain't showing improvements, just your injury scars
Now I'm not only writing raps but signing your sympathy cards
Penitentiary bars couldn't hold back the flows that
Got you lying on the bathroom floor, overdosed on Prozac
Cuz I be holding mics tight like tourists hold a road map
And now I'm bout to snap
Like look at me rapping, feeling me rapping?
Look at my brains so thin it be snapping
Losing my traction, cruising me passing
Crews that be asking "who's into action"?
Finna be happening, can I be trapped in adding lacking fractions
Laughing, eating my ration, blasting past you with my last wing

[Verse 3: Crescent Moon, Advizer, and both]
Cat got your tongue? Your brother got your Walkman
Mama got your thigh, master devil's got your coffin
I'm often feeling like we're forced to give our corner kicks
To be subordinates, just to form a sense of ordinance
Torturing porcelain fortunates I like to bad mouth
I hope you black out like keg stands up in a frat house
That's how the irony symbol career's in limbo
You're on the air asking the DJ to change the instrumental?
Little shards of my dreams are really all I have now
Threw one too many hard headed theories at my glass house
Now in all my godliness, I grace the audience
Thanks for watching us, I hope that we remain in your subconsciousness
You're astonished with my linguistics, flow like a slit wrist
Beating misfits for fitness with a limp-
Dictionary dabblers, word scramblers, nomadic herd
Travelers, that's how we lay it down in a battle verse!