Headphone Static

[Verse 1: Pat Juba]
Another mission, U.V.S stress competition
To communicate, spill 7th degree burn victim
No air conditioning, humidity heat section
A coalition, cold-blooded starving vocalism
Three room prison, the fourth invisible
Got you locked on principles
Lacking courage inside your mental, nourish
The illest thoughts on world politics
Relax, inhale, meditate on this, religious indigenous
I crucify the world during eclipse
Radio wave captivate slave breaking this
Inhabitants of past tense, untouchable nonsense
Of Hip-hop culture wise, blindfold your eyes
I represent it as your professing disc jock
Synthetic terrorism, assassinate your wisdom
Vision is twisted like hallucinogenic sinning Christians
Alter the mission, 12 monkey angle listen
Constantly dissing, diligent schism
My realism is ill, I build pyramids, an illest prison
I meditate to elevate, the world around is opposite
I concentrate, constantly rocking shit

[Chorus: Vocal sample - ] x4
You don't need to be gangsta to be street, man
It's music that's made for your mind

[Verse 2: Sep Sev Sev Two]
Hahaha
Yo, a comedian of your caliber should have an agent
Here's my card, that's my number, give me a call, I get you paid kid
I gave it all I had, it wanted more
Blew up the monitor before somebody had the nuts to feed the carnivore
They acting startled when the shit began to fray to the edges
They hit the resin and chased it with Benson & Hedges
But fuck a contract
Cause what you need is a contact buzz
To free the clutch and compress the TV's fuzz
Let me outta the agreement
Put me in treatment
Cause the picture's uneven
I got a fistful of grievance
Fuck the etcetera, the bullshit rhetoric, whatever, the vendettas
The false endeavors and heed the fucking weather
When I'm simple and plain I cripple the lame
When I adjust the thrust up a notch, I cast a layer of frost
Across your glossy eyed outlook
Never been out shook
By the flossy lies
Metamorphosize by your forceful pride
Greed is dead
Some need to bleed to get that through they head, true
Seeks bread, won't read unless they read to
And everything you do has meaning
So add some feeling
When the break hits, let's all flip and grab the ceiling

[Chorus: Vocal sample - ] x4
You don't need to be gangsta to be street, man
It's music that's made for your mind

[Verse 3: General Woundwart]
I got a hunch I can crunch MC's within the flash of an eyelid
Snap your lumbar and then supply this
Injurious hand hold, trying to defend against this is useless
Blow the candle on your last birthday, my words break
So chill with the backtalk, if you slack you get caught
You oughta think about the thought
Of fist-to-jaw clashing
In the midst I saw niggas rappin'
So I snuck up and hit the duck up
You need to brush up, touch-touch the renegader
Many feel the laser once Ant drops the fader
Communicator, I got an Uzi made of paper
Trying to do me is major, lose me in Fanastasia
You're artificially, taking part in the art
Trying to get with me, throwing sparks from out your limousine
Continuing, to bring the hype, ever sleazier
I knock the teeth in ya, then you go back and tell the media
Through the Yamaha monitor, we got it at Defcon 4
I fly alone like a commodore, we on a tour so prepare for war
Cause you's about to feel the wrath of the Gen. Woundwart