Sight & Sound

[Verse 1: Gold]
Be on sight and sound yo, this city is electric
Drink up and bite down, man the city is defective
Night owls brush the air cause the sidewalks infected
Wake up in broad night like like, what's for breakfast?
Cigarettes and tap water, yeah I'm feeling restless
40's and flying saucers, stop the text message
Drop top ale, pop tarts and ranch dressing
We are what we eat, and we eat what we're less of
I'm a emo human without a time on my hands
It would drew to free those music DSL broadband
I might be god damn or get my ass capped
But at least I got in the last rap
Yo forget about the chorus, man it's in the verse
And I'll show you what hardcore is, my hand in your purse
You read about the stories, you played in that dirt
Now tell me what you got for me, for better or for worse

[Verse 2: Gold]
Be on sight and sound, yo, the city is electric
Drink up and bite down, man the city is defective
Night owls brush the air cause the sidewalks infected
Wake up in broad night like like, what's for breakfast?
Politics and apocalypse, (somebody's gotta address this)
Lambs bred in holotips, (hopes the [...] is digested)
And only if you can swallow it, (contents to leave you congested)
You know what I am when I smoke and I smoke when I'm all rubbed dope shit and heavy doses of that puff puff pass out
Roll the magic dragon throwing brown bags in a glass house
No need to throw your tags in, I don't read labels
No need to watch tv, I don't have cable
No need to watch tv, I don't like fables
No need to need no H2O in your nasal
It's been filtered through poison, I already hear voices
I'm the people's choice for people who don't know how to make their own choices

[Verse 3: Gold]
Beyond the blind and death yo, this town is kinetic
Throw up and spit down, man the CD is infested
Night trotters walk these sacred grounds for more leverage
Go to sleep in broad daylight like, what's next? It's
Truth another thorn, angry and aggressive
Northwest order supporters of that freshish and my sandpeoples
That's hip hop perfected and the whole old diesel for flashing the message
The folks I just mentioned ain't nothing to mess with
Take the lint out your pocket on some SS shit
We've been fed rag crumbs like town jesters
And they wonder why we ain't got a CD and a press kit
We don't make first impressions, there's no one to be impressed with
Closing our open mic sessions like suicide bombers with a death wish
We hold it down in your private city, a section
Regardless I hold my own cause god bless the kid