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about
"In 1865 racists were passing Black Codes; it's 2017, and now Blacks are coding. This one goes out to all Blerds."
-E.G.S.
(First recorded in 2010 under a different title and stage name; recorded again in 2017 for my upcoming album.)
lyrics
Too many people get punished for being smart; not enough people get punished for being stupid...
(Prelude)
Mechalepsy go viral; infected with no wires
Spittin rounds watch 'em spiral; Autobots open fire
Creative and destructive, episodes and adventures
Comin live from Augusta; suffer from #AUGmentia
(Verse 1)
From my cock pit, I launch rockets, to every monument you fools ever erected
...My studio, my mobile weapon
My work ethic, the hardest armor to deflect hits
My music is suited; when I shoot it, well-directed
I'm hi-performance, rise to the occasion like the sky is fallin
Tallness? I undermine ya arguments with common logic
Excavate ya confidence with bombs intense
With uncalled-for animosity like single mom's and gents
Up to something diabolical like Empire State Building heights
I'm a Human Torch, this is my Statue of Liberty, right?
Holding just a mic, conducting entire movements
...Too many tools to not believe in Home Improvement
My two cents is a nu and clear nuisance, I break down basic
So you just get down in that basement, safe surrounded by foundation
While I touch down like a tornado rotation, skyscrapin'
Kickin up airwaves and radio stations til the mecha hurts the pavement
(Hook 2x)
It's my Mechalepsy
I go from Saturday to Saturday on animes
I like them robots, I might make a good mechanic (AYY)
Plus I live in a Cyber Capital---
Never let them tell me I'm too Black to code
(Verse 2)
I've got this targetin' system, they call it fool disclosure
It's brutally honest like sniper crosshairs with composure
Specializin' in exposure, Real McCoys only, explode ya
No decoys, I know ya goal like ya offensive playbook open
I gotchall, numbered like some coaches, magazines for each new issue approachin
Got my tracklist posted, like Kill Bill served in a cold dish
And I DON'T miss; remote control emissions, energy saver
For dot-to-dot connections when I'MA FIRIN MAH LAZER
Wait... rather use my saber, right to left, adjust that phaser
Kut you Klose like up-and-down strokin electric shaver, no lotion
My robo even got a-fro blowin, where I keep my extra ammo in
Punches el-bowin, trained with wing chun locomotion
Leave ya platinum records broken, scrap and metal smokin...
Swat ya fly outta the sky like you so plane no one would notice
Urban radio provoked this, Godzilla was just an Omen
So while you wait watchin, let's got then; while you Weight Watchin, let's go thin
(Hook 2x)
It's my Mechalepsy
I go from Saturday to Saturday on animes
I like them robots, I might make a good mechanic (AYY)
Plus I live in a Cyber Capital---
Never let them tell me I'm too Black to code
(Verse 3)
Battery power peakin, peep the decibels I speak wit
Instrumental arrangements til its activation sequence
Tuned by the finest mechanic, she could not find a weakness
I'm stuck in stealth mode, cuz it's a sleek fit I can sleep wit
From the bottom of the deepness of the Ocean Pacific
What's the use of thinkin hard if it ain't makin no difference
Poor music... it's gettin more stupid, but I know there's more to it
I'm the newest, you just blew it, you should go find you a new ship
This music chose me, like Eagle Eye, regular guy
But in the studio, I'm turning off my cellular... good bye
No reception, I'll be at your doorstep steppin, wearin out my welcome
Mr. Instant Message since I'm so direct to tell 'em
Via, Tele, grammar, phonic, speller, F, 7, check
And I'll be gone in 30 Secs, and I will never press eject
I'm down with self-destruct sequence, CeeLo frequencies
With Park Jurassic seismographics to make you believe in me
(Postlude)
Mechalepsy go viral; infection with no wires
Wifi, if I may inquire? Tell me why I'm so fire
Boss, but do you go hire; I'm solo-dolo no liar
My dream is Radio Flyer, Big City Radio flyer
Latest transmission I heard, we Capitol City Cyber
Future determined by nerds; highways on optic fibers
We drivin like tires, titles, Tigers, of course, no reminders
Tags needed, tellin my folks, textin from the Shell of my Ghost
You big bangin, yeah, I know, knockin Mother Earth off her cycle
You super producers, but need a microscope for that zygote
MCs awaiting my go, go first for your own survival
I'm goin out on a high note: no autotune on my throat.
credits
released October 15, 2017
Written, performed, recorded, and produced by M.Williams.
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