The Art
Produced by El Nigris for Waterhole Productions
(PoloMindstein) (MoTell)
Somethin like Vincent Vangough, or Michael Angelo,
the Sixteenth Chapel, the Radio, La Radio
I act irrational, compulsions of the studio,
temptations for the cash flow can't last- No...
Pushed to a point where I have to sever a ligament,
doin it for the art, so this rap is a hit...
Mainly I mean when menace make mistakes,
reach a cliff and squeeze the brakes...
The Art made me do it, but the science made it possible
Big Ben had a vision with those bifocals...
Knew all along that the monkey on my back,
would push, El Nigris track, rescue from the two with the...
Crack Creations, coming from the Waterhole,
pumpin in the ear hole, that head swole...
Being big and bold...
I know how it goes...
How pressure in the lungs turn punks into Gold.
Hang the Platinum on the wall, and watch it fall,
when the Mental Block calls, see who got the biggest draws...
Menopause, will not make the Mental pause,
wine improves with age, like the Art to a stage.
On the outside, I'm quieter than a closed book,
study a crook, on stage Mr. Captain Hook,
smarter when look, so open your eyes,
pushed off a roof and your Art got took.
Multi-talen-ted, poppin one at a- time
this one is wic-ked, so follow the bullis-tics
Many artists, not- many artistic,
-hypocritic, fifteen years is realistic
Simplistic with flows writing rhymes, with third grade literature and
English, sounding like the Pledge of Allegiance,
a genius is Mindstein, enter in the mind,
Altzhiemer's to old timers, don't compare at all...
The strong brawl, while the weak wear track shoes,
so I ask you before somebody blast you...
Picture me petrified never, you'll fall like Niagra,
don't mean to be a bragger, but I phase like a tazer
It wasn't me it was the Art, that's why I flipped
The Art made me do it, got tangled in the white web
eased into the head, seeing red like confetti
tricked by a boerconstrictor
The room shook, I hit the floor and experienced,
Total catastrophe arose,
Metamorphosis, headed for the door,
a room full of niggas, where a million fit a lyricist,
Then felt the rush, picked up the ticket for the ride,
An old puzzle, created by a wuzzle,
guided and made `em guzzle, then strapped on the muzzle
with suits and ties, and snake blue eyes
A conspiracy, devilish minds gone to work,
He kept repeating- repetition,
put us to opposition, left fighting for position,
a million bucks to the winner, with a smirk,
Fingers in pockets, living shiesty forgive me,
I notice evil in my kidneys,
criminal way to live taking over the mentality,
screaming out, for Lucifer to come and get me,
A salary controls, don't get broken by the load,
He laughed, now finish it, diminish it,
the Art made me do it, see through it...
it wasn't me it was the Art, 999,999 gone...