Lost Arts - Marlowe, L'Orange, Solemn Brigham

I hear something

That's coming from below

I think you've become mad

Almost as if something is moving below us

Act a little peculiar, and- and you're an outsider

Perhaps you've always been mad

Uh-huh

We interrupt this program to bring you a live broadcast from the Once defunct, but now resurrected lost arts

Don't you feel it?

Brigham

Revolution is knockin'

Resolution is knowledge

Get yo hand out my pocket

No weapon made can conquer my inner pain

That started my evolution of rhymin', persecuted, indicted

They instituted the violence that started my defiance

Give no respect or alliance

Less men get rich than ones who die tryin'

Less making commitments, dollars have no bias

Show you how to move in a den full of lions

If the dinner ain't cookin' you gotta know where to find it

Even if you paint pretty, you can't change the climate of my inner sanctum

My hard work is thankless, bold print the statement

I could show you somethin' that's suited for all ages

Back when I used to hide the heist in crawlspaces

All for the cause to blank slate ya faces

From the sinister cemetery, real-life visionary, not preliminary

My kingdom is ruled by vikings

Why we can't have nice things

When that hunger rings watch how they resort to biting

Why I look crookedly, took from me everything

Off the rope and out the tree to Washington Booker T

Watch the way you talk to me because I speak awfully

Even when mocking me, you gotta do it awkwardly

Often dark thoughts speak givin' me these allergies

When I sneeze, who's gonna bless me?

Counted one blessing and then it got depressing

Not down to get seen with your team, stop suggesting we

Make it our business to see and remain different

Same day, different dark feeling, black state of living

Counterfeits keep tryna hack my religion

Every night I pray "let all but the wack be forgiven"

Aye, my igna, you 're nobody till they make a wax figure

Rap cinema, call the minister

What I administer is sinister

Pivotal, pitiful, criminal, lyrical prisoner

Remember the signature when I deliver the finisher

Born and risen with Menace miniatures

Dropped dead center in this sinners dilemma

Don't make fun of the surface, they just ain't used to the tremors

Why I keeping this sweet life, my pocket'o bitters

Makes my air a bit thinner, I'm what remains on the filter

You should be more considerate, pay your anguish a visit

Raided the village just to make the place more militant

Painted an image and I don't give a Braille who feelin' it

Mail the sentiment while I'm out breaking my ligaments

Snatchin' ya block's citizens, filling them with degenerates

Mad!

Mad!

Seein' things, or not seein' it

I'm gettin' outta here!