Instrumental is the song “Beat One” by Ratatat Recorded at The Growroom in September of 2009 I can split the fabric of time as though it was linen I can tell a man lies like there ain’t such thing as forgiveness I can smoke so much like there ain’t cancer I can ask so much, there ain’t enough answers It seems as though no matter the number of rungs in my rope ladder There’ll never be a day I can touch the sun It seems as though no matter the number of drugs in my veins There’ll never be a day when the whole thing’s done Even though my mind’s more narrow than a crack pipe My ears pick up so much beauty, but I lack sight In fact, right about now I could use a little motivation But every opportunity I’ve ever been given I abused So I’ll take what little I receive And imagine it was gold, and stretch my arm to achieve the dream I’ve always got a reach for And the prerequisites that I always seem to ignore And if I won enough money to feed the planet I’d write Earth in my will, and commit suicide the next day And on the day I’m buried beneath the granite All I want on my tombstone is a chiseled microphone and my full name They always say you can’t take money with you when you die What they forget, is neither can you take your pride So I just inhale oxygen and do what I love doing Writing rhymes over beats while I’m hard shrooming The money I’m accruing won’t ever hold me back The money I’m accruing won’t ever change the facts Because you can change the future but you always got the same past My name will always remain _____ _______ People say I have a lack of emotions The pen I’m holding always tends to weep more than me I love music so much that it’s wrong And if I could express myself better, I wouldn’t have to write these fucking songs They always say I got a one track mind But if it weren’t for the music I listen to, I’d be a completely different guy So fuck you, love me or hate I wish they did but nobody seems to do either I wish we could put an age limit on time I wish I wasn’t the only person alive who could read my mind I wish peace could become more than just a concept Because, from what I read in the dictionary, it sounds pretty dope I’m trying to cope with everything in this crazy world They say word of mouth is good, but I’d rather have a mouth of words I wish I could make the world better And if I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to live forever I’ve been called beautiful and ugly, girlish and a man An idiot and a genius, so I don’t really know who I am I love music, and that’s all I can really tell you And for what it’s worth, that means a lot to me And that’s the beautiful truth

Beat produced by Apollo Recorded at The Growroom in September of 2009 Picking up these words with a forked tongue A warped sun displays existence suffering from the war guns I play stupid and aim cupid’s arrows at opposites Hoping to off-course love’s beautiful plan A view of a hand holding magnificence I can’t imagine possibly Calling me to a dark place, then following me back home And sleeping under my bed amongst with the shadows It’s not pain, and it’s not angst So what’s the awful thing in my stomach I’m pushing up against? I don’t even understand the questions I meander I can achieve the goals if I can override the slander I’m a peaceful man, but approach guilt in the opposite manner And sip from innocence to help the cottonmouth I realize perfection is a flaw, and I embrace that With the same arms that end with hands that have held my mom’s hands and cocaine sacks The say money is the root of all evil Then I guess man must be the tree And if it is true that life has a sequel Then maybe I should just quit my dreams Following puff to a bad place in hopes of a good taste But streets scream of being worn More than clothes in Paris Hilton’s wardrobe And so I write rhymes as odes to reality Insanity stapled to my damaged vanity Screaming to the sky, like “damn it, can it be possible that this is happening?” Cigarettes burn slow like my patience on this globe Sometimes I sit and think so hard and still I live amongst the gnomes Let it be told and written in stone that Imaginative cabooses are designed to derail And some plans are simply destined to fail Like crack addicts taking fat rails To impale their brains and impair themselves I hold my pride upon the shelves of my achievements But thoughts are the closest thing I have to trophies yo And I mean this The say money is the root of all evil Then I guess man must be the tree And if it is true that life has a sequel Then maybe I should just quit my dreams I roll like a wheel getting props near With apathy attached to the spreading cropped fear I manifest positivity and filter the smiles A man whose best guess would be to be the lifter of tiles No emotional motive that’s clearly visible No devotional quota that’s nearly divisible Hid a bull inside of the eye of the hurricane With her to blame, it’s no wonder you feel so invincible You don’t need to hold a child’s hand as he dies to know what’s happening Truth… I ain’t been around the world, but I’ve been around the block I ain’t seen everything, but I’ve seen enough to talk I got experience, but some not to be shared Cuz I’d prefer not to have the entire public aware of my daymares Wish I could say “hey there” to everyone with a smile And ratio the separate sides of my mind in a respectable style The say money is the root of all evil Then I guess man must be the tree And if it is true that life has a sequel Then maybe I should just quit my dreams

Beat is from the song “The Return” by Brand Nubian, prod. by DJ Premier Recorded at The Growroom in October of 2009 It’s the return I don’t turn circular tables, I’m burning the fables Unstable when linked up to a mic cable While other emcees fumble their weak deliverance I’m steady heating up beats to degrees, where they burn like this I alleviate halos to higher tensions Intending to blend in with the frank spectacle bending of time I’m sending the rhymes through the mic into the flame Bashing the weak charades to light up, only to fade My momma told me there’d be days like this When the clouds shroud the sun Giving the illusion it just begun I can’t relate to being poor or abused I’ve simply succumbed to listening to horrible news My horrible views have charred my scarred optics Allowing my presence to be heightened via when I rock this Knocking this, subtly stopping whack shit from oddly shocking this rap game I slap my name all over the place I’ve never wanted to hit kids; I’ve only wanted to hit bongs I’ve never dropped classes, but I’ve dropped acid I watched the flame swallow the wick I can’t count the hours I spent tripping shit in a mirror I fear my intentions are irrational Loosening my fission so I can listen without bother I got heart, but it skips more than it palpitates This heart places drips in random locations, and it’s irate My fate might not be what I wish it was So I wish I could retain my confidence and dance with the slugs Prance with the hugs Pop caps till I can’t tell comfort from pain And eat shrooms until my brain unplugs and I go insane I’m a mortal with a dream that’s out my reach A skinny index finger and fulfilled will to teach I feel my guilt strangling the pride I earn Burning worse than a canoed blunt yo It’s the return I see it all through the nights and the days I read it all, both the sides of the pages I’m sick of it, its hope blistering I’d whisper it but the problem is you ain’t listening

Beat produced by SCGS99 & DC Recorded at The Growroom in October of 2009 “And now friends, our guest of the day. A man whose work on stage, screen, radio and recordings Has made him one of the greatest popular singers of our time” I’m not that star up there open for you to see I’m just an elusive moon of Jupiter waiting on gravity The clocks could all stop working but time would still fly The rocks could all stop rolling, but hills would still slope I’m just a plain man trying to spit dope But I only seem to be hitting it, so I want to follow my hopes And reach a level higher than the spacecrafts and astronauts And evolve to every positive aspect that I’m not I want to hold a mic with pride and hear the people cheer And spit with the confidence that my words are pleasing people’s ears But right now, I only got my best to give And I’m living with it and giving it all I got So if I’m not the dopest on Van Island than know this Can’t no swagger or chains capture my focus I’m sprouting new branches for the children to climb So I can lie back, spark a fatty and smile I’m burning my wits, mixing it with the salvia hit Furthering the momentum of which I gain lift The tables have torn more drastic than a Premo track Back-winding the findings to chase the evil past I don’t leave breadcrumbs, I follow my footsteps So when my size 15 stamps the Earth it births my last breath And when my confidence cripples my spine Is when I’ll put down the mic And fight my own mind until it decides to fight back And I want you to know I only showed you attention cuz I thought you would grow You deserve to be aware in the core (that I don’t need you) You only held the cup while I poured (On and on and on and on and on…) You only held the cup while I poured (I don’t need you) You only held the cup while I poured When I was young I built a tree house trying to hug the sun My first real experience with a goal that’ll never be done Life is like a puzzle, but I’ve lost a few pieces Call me a pessimist, cuz I don’t know what peace is And recently I’ve been fiending for lack of normalcy Completing the perfect circle, hurting my identity I was counting sheep when suddenly a shot rang in the distance And domino effect blessed a dead wreck of animals before my very eyes Oh the “Lord” don’t exist or my OCD wouldn’t either So I stand still and take a fat hit and take a breather And I don’t try to be a pleaser You can’t impress everyone on the world neither I love my action figure, and I love my music, and I love my friends And those three things to the very end Fuck money It’s just commercialized hatred vacated inside of a hand to bring confidence to a weak man I stand with vertical spine curving to destiny’s verdict You heard it from the mouth that spoke a guilty hurt trip I’m the water-based life form from the rigid polar That’s frigid beneath the whole earth with acid behind his molars “Why is it melting!?” I want to write, but I can’t hold my pencil Aligning the sky’s connect-the-dots as a stencil And these questions surfacing are more confusing than numbers A rugged frame surfacing my blame, winding inside the blunder My thundering wonder of mysticism is ballooning Holding the light underneath the pain I am spooning (nope!) I got self discipline, and I know which edge is sharper So I can tip-toe across fields imagined with a permanent marker iEarth is not another wheel turning, it’s not anything burning It’s just a fragile imagination Creating my own emotions with a gentle touch Coveting the things I love with a simple love And it’s sickening, y’all And I want you to know I only showed you attention cuz I thought you would grow You deserve to be aware in the core (that I don’t need you) You only held the cup while I poured (On and on and on and on and on…) You only held the cup while I poured (I don’t need you) You only held the cup while I poured

Beat produced by Apollo, additional synths by St. Kelly Recorded at The Growroom in November of 2009 I built myself a house of matches But when I went to light my pipe My house caught aflame, and now I’m feeling cold during these nights I have nowhere to go except inside my own insecurities So could you spare a match so I could restart building this city? I mean, I hate to sound greedy But right now I’m placing my own concerns before the necessities of the needy And I don’t care how people interpret what I say Because I’m really the only person who can fully relate to what I say I’m just a pupae with a moth trapped inside Sitting with a will to expand my wings and learn to fly But right now, my shell’s limiting the expansions of my mind… I nearly had it, but then I awoke Another acid reflux spasm, another passed out hoe Another relief labeled a joke Another warm spirit left to sniffle alone inside the cold Just another hole getting bigger as it implodes And I mean, I’m not from a broken home I’ve never forcefully been admitted to broken bones And I’m pretty sure I even got a still intact soul So why am I so affected by this collection of broken hope? And I could say I’ve seen a lot, but I’d be lying But I still think it’s bad to see disaster bloom from a third view perspective I observe with couth You ask me “what’s wrong with lying?” I tell you “what’s wrong with the truth.” I just write music and morbidly wait For something beautiful to amalgamate from my mistakes I don’t believe in religion, God is a coward And I believe in myself before any higher power The universe is just a black nothing sprayed with dots And each dots harbours a different reality And ever so emphatically I treat my emotions like shoestrings, tightening my sanity Getting trapped inside the loopholes I like to vice my opinions in song so there’s no talking back Quite honestly, it comforts me And I know I got a weak backbone, but it stiffens when I assert it To assemble my courage in necessary situations And blame, well who am I to place? When my constant need for joint breaks puts me in last place I’m cold and my layers are shedding And these undetained thoughts are beginning to swell I used to have a house until the day I toked some weed And I missed my ashtray And now I’m living on these side streets I’m so cold and alone, and I want a home And there’s no catch So do you think you could spare a match?

Beat produced by LabMatik Recorded at The Growroom in December of 2009 I hop along to the hip, with a motion sparked by my devotion Flowing with a current like the ocean This is a toast to the realness And I can feel this air in my lungs But when it hits you like acid, your brain will reverse backwards Along with your hat to symbolize the respect I once had for you But dude, what the fuck just happened? I got millions of words but only one way to be rapping Do you need an equation for two to be equal You got to stick it and bump, like a heroine needle The feeble minded always tried it Biting my lines when I’m rhyming My timing is keeping the game hot like proper wool designing I drop more bars than Tetris, you get this? You can’t test this like a Scantron I bet this style that your aiming ain’t attaining the respect you want to get Well you should grow some intellect I don’t care what the people say I just want to go when the sequel plays Straight to the top in an equal way I don’t want to sample that evil taste I’m rocking the underground like earthworms Witnessing while the world burns Dashing with rhymes so fast it’ll reverse the way the earth turns I’m churning dope rhymes out of my mind at the speed of light I’m out of this world with spitting; I’m kicking it with the satellites I bring the organized sound to massage your mental and spark dope lines That’ll leave you surprised and squinting like an oriental I bend tools using my vocab like a flame torch I contort my vocal chords to form words, weaving your brain sore I might just make you believe Apollo be the sickest emcee in the VIC I grow like a tree, getting closer to the stars And when the sun burns out I’ll be left on the top branch watching over afar I’m pondering who the fuck you are Spitting a lyrical equivalent to a 10 lb per pressure repertoire I saw your try to bring it, but all you brought was your frame Spitting about your chains and such, lacking the power of the brain I maintain attained aim at your whack ass Trying to pass off your backwards hat for a rough past Just cuz you cut class and roll blunts ain’t make you a gangsta Your style’s more fucking weak than clock radio speakers I got more feat (feet) than a centipede when I impede Blessing a mic with my rhymes Crucifying your undeserved pride through the lines I’m so intrepid when I’m stepping on any beats Dividing emcees with my punch lines, the only solution being defeat I don’t care what the people say I just want to go when the sequel plays Straight to the top in an equal way I don’t want to sample that evil taste To all those who judge me before you know me (give a listen) To all those who think that my raps are phony (give a listen) To all those who think I’m a whack emcee (give a listen) To all those who looking, but can’t really see (give a listen)

Instrumental is the song “Another Reflection” by Nujabes Recorded at The Growroom in December of 2009 In the beginning there was nothing 
Then man created his own circles which spiraled out of control 
It was nothing except hurtful
 We praise our own confines and invent things we can relate to
 In able to trick the average man to believe his life’s a virtue
 And I don’t dance cuz I don’t want to be laughed at
 And I don’t mingle with religion cuz I’m more than just a lab-rat
 If a man who can’t counts finds a 4 leaf clover is he still lucky?
 Or just another unknowing victim 
Travelling with a lack of knowledge inside their system
 Even though they aren’t aware it doesn’t change that it inflicts them 
It just means it’ll stabilize the pain when it hits them
 And rather writher their soul
 There’s got to be more to life 
Than sitting, wondering if there’s more to life
 No matter where you go, or what you do
 You live your whole life within the limits of your own head 

I wish I was dead sometimes so state did not exist
 And I could allow my hate and happiness to co-exist 
This planet is too dangerous for my fragile identity 
So I suppose it’s my worries that are bending me 
I’m just a shell to a future ghost at the very most 
Tying a rope around my wits and dangling it in my hopes
 And if this ladder had even one less step
 You better bet, I’d climb it to the peak and catch my breath
 I watch the trees catch a breeze and spread their seed
 Which the birds flock towards and naturally eat
 We are all just a small blip, you know it
 So there’s no real difference between the grass and the man who mows it
 I could knock on the sky and listen to the sound
 As it echoes off the ocean and rumbles the ground 
But I just make do with what I have and make my possibilities best
 Because some people walk in the rain
 Others just get wet 

The fish trap exists because of the fish
 Once you’ve got the fish, you can forget the trap
 The rabbit snare exists because of the rabbit
 Once you’ve got the rabbit, you can forget the snare
 Words exist because of their meaning
 Once you’ve got the meaning, you can forget the words
 Tell me where I can find a man who has forgotten words So I can talk with him


Beat produced by Apollo Recorded at Dylusion’s place in December of 2009 Those reddish-orange walls have seen a lot They get a thrill out of sharing their knowledge They’ve been so many colours, but have stayed true to themselves And kept forth a sturdy foundation They have a lack of control, but my mind can alter them in the dark They go without recognition from many, but to me it’s pure art Clown faces and flying mushrooms leaving trailers I can see the succeeders and failers Now them walls saw murder, and they painted me a picture It’s a shame they couldn’t share it to the world I’m a kite with a dream of responsible flight I’m a pissed off hill wanting to fuck you over, but my angle is slight I’m a clock radio speaker reaping your passion I’m the biggest and smallest of kit cymbals attempting crashing We are all never the closest to the farthest thing from worthless But we all still find a cause or person to worship What do you think of me now? Now that I am existing What do you think of me now? Now that I am missing What do you think of me now ?
Inside of the crevices of my own brain Trying to crawl out, but I’m refusing help My ignited wit slit my string of doubts, so now it’s over To hell with thinking about thinking, I want to just go I’m tired of the nightly overload So fuck you reddish-orange room, you aren’t my universe Even so much as my galaxy The things I ponder over regularly held me back And now I’m running Everything I ever looked for I annihilated I looked for better sight and took drugs to get my pupils dilated My legs support a table trying to feed the world But it grew impatient and consumed itself, and now I know too much Is reality really here? How is the universe being supported by little spectacles of perfection When perfection doesn’t exist, but yet it makes existence possible Cuz if each measurement were .1 different, we’d all shatter It rubs me suspicious that by luck this is all possible Why only planet Earth that’s hospitable? What do you think of me now? Now that I am existing What do you think of me now? Now that I am missing What do you think of me now?
 Inside of the crevices of my own brain Trying to crawl out, but I’m refusing help

Beat produced by Tantu Recorded at Dylusion’s place in January of 2010 Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have tried it Had I known you truly can’t lose something until you can’t find it Ain’t it funny how we don’t realize the realizations Are what limits us from an outwards perception? (I never knew) Death is life’s substitution So reality is merely an illusion A very persistent one at that, we all end up facing There are no facts, only interpretations (I never knew) You could trip and never get up And hold the horizontal view with open arms and love It doesn’t matter what you can see or feel Cuz everything that you imagine is real The past inspires the present, so how can I simply put it back The “honest to all but myself” mental-set disconnected me from what I previously lacked And now it’s gone, lost between eternity and nowhere But I’m gathering matches to build a city, and when construction’s done I want to go there I want to float there Watching all else who try sink to the depths. Has got some weak, but me, I’m just more cautious of every step I live and learn, and live more and forget it It’s the cycle that we all are trapped in from start to finish (I never knew) You could know too much That the sand would eventually leak if you had too tight of a clutch I haven’t believed in reality since the day it went away and returned So perception is just something we earn (I never knew) Drugs were good until I tried them There are some people who live in a dream world And there are some who face reality And then there are others, who turn one into the other So what you drinking? So what you popping? So what you eating? So what you dropping?
So what you smoking? So what you sniffing? So how you coping? So what’s the difference Society is just a mental concept In the real world there are simply individuals And that’s why I don’t believe in God, I just believe in the day Because even when you doubt reality, it never goes away (I never knew) It could all come back What differentiated theories from facts Because, if you hold a belief close enough to you Doesn’t that in itself make it true? (I never knew) What normality was Because my whole life I’ve had unexplainable, untreatable issues I never thought hallucinogens would make my mental-set so drastically change I got to fight for who I was I bet those feet feel pretty heavy flying high with no wings You can’t be that fly and not get tired But whatever, ignorance is beautiful And thus, let’s find something to lose reality to (I never knew) The meaning of life Never have, never will, till the day that I’m killed I could keep on searching, but the answer is lost And I’ve yet to decide if death’s a worthy cost (I never knew) Never have, never will Never do, never want to Never shall, never did Never want to, never do Never have, never will

Beat is from the song “Luv (Sic) Pt. 3 (Feat. Shing02)” by Nujabes, prod. by Nujabes Recorded at The Growroom in February of 2010 My compartment called a shell is where my definition resides Constantly in a fight Listening to the bickering of my soul against my mind And it’s difficult to decide which side to favour When it’s altering my behavior My motor skill disorder makes me look like a fool The constant lump in my throat is my anxiety’s fuel I was never attention deficit So the ritalin pills I popped every day my panic attacks more evident And now I fail to represent anything I’ve got invisible scars from when I picked my mental scabs apart I was given the perfect life right inside of my hand And how it got so fucked up, I’ll never understand And if I can’t, then what’s the use for help? Just another excuse for misery loves company But my company thoroughly admires independence I don’t look for advice because it’s usually the opposite of what I want I don’t see psychiatrists no more I’d rather talk to myself because it’s cheaper Or maybe that’s just myself being me Subconsciously telling myself I’m weaker than the average And I realize you’re only what you yourself perceive yourself to be But I can’t seem to leap-frog over that awkward stump I’m content with being comfortably numb And that’s what scares me the most More than any height More than any flight More than any sight More than any wolf in sheep’s skin luring me in with its potential comfort and delicacy Cuz even shadows can’t exist without light And that’s the truth about life It’s a cycle we only with we could see the end to And we bend to accommodate the slender space we were reservated Adapt to the mold and standardize our well-being to better hatred Or so they make it out to be But I’ll never give into they’s perception of what’s okay I’d rather die hungry than swallow my pride Cuz only inside my shell’s where my definition resides I have two eyes; one perception; one frame These two hands I possess have touched cash Touched pussy and touched joints Touched trust, touched pens which have touched points So what’s the point when it all comes back around? Memories are only lived once, and the purpose is never found Despite my many mistakes I’m still standing to this day I got hate that’ll never go away But that’s okay

Beat produced by Blue Magic Recorded at Dylusion’s place in March of 2010 This is my ode to what exploded Watching me under the cannibal ox as my mind eroded My thoughts are expanding and dulling the image But piecing together my scrambled views, fulfilling my vision I’m finished with foggy mentality and wretched sobriety And the shielding insecurities that help my flaws at hiding me Fuck existence; I want to live I want the footprints to lead the followers to something they themselves can give I want relatance to blatancy I want a mundane mentality so I can unstitch my string of doubts And reclaim my vacancy Me and the city are both insomniacs that are obviously unnatural But manage to hold many branches that inspire some, but not enough I once threatened to kill myself But my inner peace called my bluff Which is a lot to say for a man who can’t find peace A soul stuck in life or death Just trying to fight for breath! I know that’s cliché But it’s better than what I myself could come up with To explain the reason that I’m fed up with being alive Because the day I lost my virginity’s the day I lost my pride I missed out on the opportunities most look back to on and rely I have flashbacks to watching my close friend overdose And my grandfather dying slowly in a comatose I want to grow, but I think my root split Which is the reason for these voices and my anxiety fits I’ve slipped so far away from what I once stood for I take so much for granted And I’m always persistent to ignore advice I do what I think is right, but it tends to backfire I never think twice, and it’s probably why my songs ain’t tight I’ve posed, deliberately had others exposed And I know being honest doesn’t make up for it all We all throw; we all catch We all create things, not expecting those things to hatch I’m an unemployed mind trying to make something out of nothing So my words are really just acquisitions to my thoughts I’ve seen a lot of things, and I’ve made many mistakes I’ve told a lot of lies in attempts to hide my fate I want my dark side to stay silent I burned every bridge I ever built But now I’ll never leave this awful island But enough with the “I”, that’s always what’s on my mind Let’s focus in on the people listening to these rhymes This is for the paraplegic people dreaming of running This is for the relapsed addicts, fiending for something This is for the woman who put up in that abusive relationship And the people who follow easy causes to be labeled but never gave a shit Foremost – this is for those who have flaws So pat yourself on the back if you recognize your downfalls Nobody can construe life except you So don’t let anybody give you answers to the unanswerable questions Because those questions are blessings we take for granted But don’t let me tell you something Only you can find exactly where your mind is And once you do maybe you too can learn to enjoy the silence

Beat produced by Tantu Recorded at The Growroom in March of 2010 Eyo, the elapsed fragments are eluding my circumstance Tight roping across my legacy with which I clumsily dance It’s hard to happily prance with an open hand and a water storyteller, lying But hell, if Nostradamus can… Broken hearts, broken transmissions, broken open signs Broken existence bludgeoning the faults pointed to the opposition To a corner named prosperity Hunting the edge of what was previously inane, but now is afraid of its fame So where should I place the blame on this minefield Tetris game? I don’t even know So I elude my insecurities behind my eyelids For secure avoidance to dastardly violence I fear death but I’m even more afraid of life Ain’t no escape except for shrooms by the eighths Watching over my own reality but still can’t see my mistakes Holding my testament to truth behind these lies So it’s nothing but nothingness that resides between these lines Let’s roll, my brother, to the finish line! Let’s roll this thunder to the diminished sky Hate is only one letter away from fate So I consume the hand that feeds me cuz I want more than just a taste I want the vine to define my life by consumption Rhymes to confine my triumph’s deductions It’s more than luck, and if you dispute Well unless you contributed, shut the fuck up I try to spit steady, but hope lots, and fall off Choking over pectin oral throat drops My tongue’s too tough to twist tyrannically tossed triumph Tucked into my totally toked hotboxed brain We’re all the same, minus the name and the frame I’m that pussy ass lion they claimed was tamed, when it was half a man And never fit into society So it got shipped to a place where people became the wild ones And the lion lost its freedom It accepted defeat, and died alone without a reason Let’s roll, my brother, to the finish line! Let’s roll this thunder to the diminished sky A deficit to love A prerequisite to fucking, and never any more than that stuff A shit stained fan blade from when it hit and splattered all over the room Now as it circles around it wishes it had a better view So who are you? You’re parent’s creation, but it’s highly likely not what they anticipated You rise above your despise for what your eyes have realized So your enticement is a jigsaw slab with a knife that symbolized the tide! Let’s roll, my brother, to the finish line! Let’s roll this thunder to the diminished sky

Beat produced by Apollo Recorded at Dylusion’s place in March of 2010 “Yo man, who the fuck’s that Apollo kid?” “I don’t even know….listen to him…fucking little gangster wannabe.” “Not even man, I mean he fucking dresses like a little emo, he’s a fucking bitch ass rapper I think… “I know! And half the shit he says doesn’t even fucking make sense! I mean…”
“Man, I don’t even get how the fuck anyone could ever, fucking, bump music like that bullshit, man. I don’t get how anyone could listen to that shit…” What was that you said? I just woke up This damage that rests by my bedside makes me want to throw up Like, fuck Who else feels that while they hibernate the wilderness seems to flourish at your absence? I’ve been glad since madness shared its secrets Blank detachment from any sort of feeling I love withdrawing from the world This existence wheel I’m cursed to experience is making me feel delirious It wasn’t until I lost my mind that my eyes could truly open Now I see patterns everywhere, and the way my teeth fit bothers me I don’t know a lot, but I know too much This reality is pinning me, I swear it’ll be the death of me I’m meant to be a witness and not a culprit My identity is dependent on discovering what I was sent to be I have a hard time grasping my life is a complete stroke of luck A stroke of my dad’s dick But even more so, I can’t understand religion What fucking gift was I given? When all potential I feel I have is sitting behind my cornered walls, hidden Playing hacky-sack with my globe sized mind I’m slowly being strangled by these tangles in my halos The hardest part of my life is accepting the fact I’ll always be unstable Sitting under the table, picking the scraps off the floor I’m non-existent to the ones before me Why am I still writing when most people who know I write songs choose to ignore me? This planet I popped up on fucking bores me So I’ve invented ways inside of my thought centre to replenish my sense of knowledge Cuz really, what do I know? I’m seventeen years old and live at home Never been in love, and don’t got talent except for writing these shitty poems But I keep going without a goal to achieve I like rapping about the same shit, and I call it a dream I owe all I got to say cuz of mistakes And I don’t fucking love music I just use it to escape I like getting high, but can’t cope with the anxiety I love tripping, but now reality is my entheogen So I’m letting em in, the rampant acceptance to my fate There’s something here, and I got to destroy it before I can create My biggest dream in life is to accept death And pay more attention to my steps than my breaths I tend to wreck beauty I know I’ll never live up to expectations Which is why I spit my way This life scares me to death My paranoia attacks me when I least expect Whether I be toking grass, hitting salvia Eating muggers, dropping acid, popping caps Drinking cough syrup, or skipping class I’m still the same D-Hamz in the middle class Spitting raps nobody except for me understands But alas, I’m confronting the things I never had My splintered brain-bone is scaffolding off insane poems Attempted discovery always seems to lead to arrogance So life is a lose-lose situation And existence is too long; I want to get it over with So I can just sleep and not worry about my grief Ohh…

Beat produced by Mindtwist Recorded at Dylusion’s place in March of 2010 That kite string was longer than I ever imagined When it kissed the clouds, I could hardly believe what just happened Somewhere between a spectacle and a dream You ever get that feeling; you can’t believe what you’ve seen? I felt a tug on the line, I expected control But that cotton took its own path I couldn’t understand what was stopping that kite from reaching its limits The universe was right there, but it couldn’t get past the leash I feel envious of that kite for accepting it was so close To reaching something I didn’t think I could ever know I could feel the blood on my hand as I attempted to let it fly But I could feel it tugging back as if it wasn’t happy with the sky And at precisely that moment, I came to see What it means to be free Cuz that kite was me I could keep on trying to fly free But I know the sky ain’t what confines me To the planet I feel below my feet The only thing that limits me, is me

Beat produced by Mindtwist Recorded at The Growroom in April of 2010 I once heard the ocean in a shell It’s amazing, the emotions you can gather from when just one sense becomes dependant Sounds can paint pictures And they say a picture’s worth a thousand words So when I put my mind on beats and spit, they’re worth a thousand more I believe in flight, but yo I ain’t talking the kind with wings My mind goes high with sight and thought each time that I decide to sing This world is mine for the taking But I’d rather give it Present it to the populace so they can reap the seed And root their own beliefs that stem from this giant Earth we see before us From the businessmen yelling in cities, to the birds chirping in forests And of course it’s true, unfortunately Cuz no matter how slowly the tide comes in All that matters is that the beach becomes pristine We all tend to swallow the meaning Cuz we want it so bad, but it always gets digested It isn’t until you open your mind that the meaning can be nested I got a lot to teach and even more to learn We all back up our crooked lies while the truth is being burned I work hard for what I want, and even harder for my needs I’ve spent days sitting in my room writing raps, and had days I forgot to eat Perhaps my passion is a parasite feeding on my sanity But the more my mental crumbles, I can feel my increasing vanity And, yo, I’ve seen a lot of things, but not as much as I’ve heard I guess it’s my dice roll It’s beyond my control It’s life; it’s only four letters long But if I claimed to know its meaning then I know I’d be wrong Cuz man, I’m currently dealing with insanity’s long shit And if it weren’t for my anxiety I’d be taking gravity bong hits The wrong shit I did makes up a chunk of who I am I got people who like my music, but if they knew me they wouldn’t be a fan And that’s that I acknowledge the past…. Memories influence what will one day conjoin But for now, the future is sitting there, waiting for me to toy with it I don’t even want to comprehend this Ignorance is bliss Cuz if you ain’t lived it, what is there to miss? It’s odd what I wish I had Watching other people born with it, acting like it’s something everyone has But I guess I got to live with it, although it burns me I gots what I gots, and what I don’t got don’t concern me And if I lived forever I bet 400 years would go by in the blink of an eye Cuz really, time would mean something different If after a day we all died I wouldn’t try, that’s for certain I guess defeat’s a serial killer poking at the back of your bathroom curtain I wear my tiger-striped serenity around my willowed inadequacy The lack of attention is maddening me You don’t need salvia to see the world for the ethereal thing it is It’s true what they say “Life’s what you make it” I was told that by my grandpa with the intent to entice I got flavoured up by the salt grain with which I took the advice Cuz since then, I’ve learned my depression is non-existent An outlook is defined not by what you see with your eyes But rather the way you choose to perceive the world in your mind I’m so far away from sense, or winding the Rubik’s right So bear with me until I agree with my other side it’s been found What I lack in emotion I make up for in thoughts I don’t think I’ll ever be able to dedicate to a woman as much as I do to these songs I can’t get a good grip on a girl Not even a good grip on the world All I have is my music, my voice, and my mind And you know what? With just that I’m fine

Beat produced by Mindtwist Recorded at The Growroom in May of 2010 If ignorance is bliss Then I must be the happiest thing-a-ma-jig in the whatcha-ma-call-it? Oh, never mind My lack of proper alignment is pooling into this mass of which in that I’m falling My stubby limbs are crawling For the amusement that the floor is closer to my heart This tense parasitic mind I have is tearing itself apart My ballooning intelligence is growing This river continues flowing But the water ain’t pure no more Oceans accept the burdens that we have marked on this globe But now this orb is sore I do not want to waste my energy upon this fruitless valley Failed attempts at redemption only make the process longer I believe perfection is a flaw You’ve got a lot left to learn if you’re convinced you’ve seen it all I dwell in the crevices of my wrinkled maturity Cuz with lack of understanding, imagination is flourishing But alas, I have these confounding necessities with a open hand As it leaks like sand in the hourglass as the hours pass And honestly, I could move on if hip hop passed away But on the day music dies, I might just lose my mind And you know, sound evaporated in formation of words Is precisely the thing we have come to recognize as such I must muster my clustered jigsaw slabs to formulate the image Now but a memory of something I once had Standing in corners, marked by rigidity of brain cells Asking all around for assistance, yet receive the same help My gained detachment is actually matching my wholeness These facts are blacking out my stature So I backed my quantified mind-state To a rusty demeanor value In which the denominator swallowed the numerator The creator has met his match Spared it to the less fortunate And the less fortunate spent it on more crack unfortunately Today, I swear I saw a ghost Turned out just to be my reflection But through my own eyes I read my iris It tells tales I’ve never read before My lack of imagination scares me, and all I see is words I once attempted to make sense of my liberty But only could make sense of the definition Nobody would listen to what I’m giving You better comprehend the fact perennial beauty is nonexistent Extinct Shafting my suspended halo to a degree it resembles a triangle Searching for a believable excuse to my anti-matter behavior It’s drastically classic comedy I must succumb under I wonder and wish upon stars But every star eventually explodes, thus as well does my hopes I could hum lullabies forever, and the world would never be at peace Only ever reach a piece of me

Beat produced by Mindtwist Recorded at the Growroom in July of 2010 I’ve been listening to the old tick tock for hours now But it hasn’t changed its tune Burdened to wait for nothing, from the womb until the tomb But man, how could I forget a waste of time? When time is all I got I’m figuring why not make a new dimension to dip my pen in Lessons are be learned, and wits are to be burned I sucked the helium out my halo and watched it plummet Now I’ve got access to viewing the Earth atop the summit I’ve got my “something” to hold close And I just hope you learned your lesson the day your modem overloaded It’s like what I wrote demoted from poem to rap You think I ain’t knowing the facts? I say I make hip hop music and some people automatically assume that it’s whack I just got to expand my wings and reap the nectar Borboleta Half alien/half angel, hovering with one wing I love music, and that’s the reason I sing What else am I to do with all the things that I think?
But oddly enough, I don’t want to be famous I don’t want my music merely just being a piece of entertainment I make pieces of art I organize my thoughts and voice over the beats and try to tear them apart I only build walls if I know they’ll be opaque We shelter our insecurities behind our many complaints Never once did I claim to be a saint But still, I got people asking for my advice Man, just go and get baked But maybe that’s a mistake? Maybe our fates are condemned the instant we make The assumption we were all put on this Earth to create Searching for a purpose can hurt you and birth inertia Searching for a perfect circle I bet those feet feel pretty heavy flying high with no wings For now I can only but imagine the peace that it brings you I cannot give enough thanks for the beauty, and the beats that I sing to The people I sing to, but not for I lit my cigarette with the tip of a phoenix feather It ignited and took flight and the sky turned bright With hundreds of multi-coloured lights in my limited sight I’d spit to the wind’s rhythms and patterns Clear my head and compute the data And this one time in a mushroom trip, when I was stuck in a séance I found the meaning of life, but wrote it in white crayons I can split the fabric of time so loud that you’ll listen Perhaps make a symphony of sounds around you For lack of better things to do Align my motive’s corrosions, commence to think it through I’m baffled by the amount of nonsense I spew I wish my brain was not this way But at the same time, I want deeply to stay sane I bet those feet feel pretty heavy flying high with no wings For now I can only but imagine the peace that it brings you I cannot give enough thanks for the beauty, and the beats that I sing to The people I sing to, but not for