Bottle of Humans

[Chorus]
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes

[Verse 1]
On top of the world
Yet I ain't never left my head no turn to look back
Every seventh page is an anthem
For a different mood
In the perfect world, I set the perfect mood
In this perverted abode
I claim rogue in plainclothes
And sing songs of utter depression, love, chemical imbalance, sheer paranoia
My science is fiction, I kick space raps for the down to Earth heads
The kids that get dubs are the only ones that want to listen
My words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some
Can't say that I'm ahead of my time
I fear that my time will never come
Can't exist outside the bottle nor crack under pressure
No one questions how we got here
And if they don't things never get any better
Lesser demigod, foreign object, stuffed animal animating
In a still life digital La Brea tar pit
Walking in circles is my red carpet
These are distress signals spanning you and I in verses
So if anyone hears I'm the sole survivor of a dying civilization
A galaxy called integrity (In the belt of creativity)
But, it's now a black dwarf snuffed by a cold world
I keep warm by burning dead bodies
Smell of defeat's sun never sets, it's all ours
We can walk the streets until the buildings no longer remain
My people are my people, karma's an ally
The line's been drawn, this is my gold tank
Everywhere I go, I don't belong
Unknown by most, hated by many, adored by the rest
Beliefs are dead skin
I'm so East, well why did I end up on the West?
Don't need to sacrifice my cadence
And sentence structure design by rhymes, etc
Anticon, hip-hop music for the advancement of mankind
More than an egomaniacal, sarcastic label for a movement
The wind of change still smells like a million corpses in kerosene
Marching to burn down the walls, and the village, and storm the castle
Round up the damsels, take 'em to the river, now we can spawn
This ain't pre-millennium tension, it's the result of too much free time
On dusty fingers, and it'll be a wonderful ride
A million bleeding hearts composing prose in blood
To live and die a thousand times

[Chorus]
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes

[Verse 2]
Ever been to Hell?
This is a black and white photo album, outlined in infrared
The infrastructure is dead
The instructors fled the scene of the massacre
Asking for forgiveness no begging
No leg and only body, everybody's dummies in the alleyway
Sole casts the rolling luck
Watch my breath and mark my words in white chalk
Gawking at reflections, walking in misdirections catching bad ones
This isn't spoken word, it's the reinvention of Sugar Hill
Right now your girl is transfixed upon my scripts
And this is Sole and we're making love right now
So I don't need to take her to the hotel
This a love song, I'd pass out roses but the thorns sear my flesh
I'm like these aren't groupies, I'm a mammal
My whole life's a freestyle set
Stars only exist in the sky, so nothing gets to my head
The universe is my A&R, by the time I fall off, I'll probably be dead
It's been a long time since the mountains pine trees and shoveling snow
Now my closest peers are the greatest talents I'll ever know
Music's gotten impersonal, hip-hop persona's gotten vain
So, MC's, I ain't feeling you if I don't know your real name
Hip-hop isn't dead, the industry isn't wack, indy hip-hop is a demo fair
Keep your sights set, what do you want to move, rats minds or posteriors?
I'm still a fan, corporate insider, and rainmaker
It's springtime, where are the centaurs and people in grass skirts?
This is the verge, the melting point
Where your favorite emcees can't be lazy anymore
The psychopath this is psyche rap
With violins, violence
My life stranded on an island with no food
But beautiful women feeding my ego, or what little is left
No, this is gangsta rap my shirt's unbuttoned
Stealing moments of brilliance, even limelights
Chopping up keys to break the floodgates
Maybe this is instrumental hip-hop and I don't know when to shut up
Well maybe this is turntable music
Scratch the I's and I'll scratch yours
What if this is honest music and I mean every other word I say
Don't take anything literal or out of context
Just take it for what it is
If you want labels we can divide, I'll still be strong
Bottom line it's all art (This is a good and a bad song)

[Chorus]
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes
I've been so many places
In my life and time
Yes, I've sung a lot of songs
I've made some bad rhymes