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letra de toast - beans

[verse 1]
can bliss outlast a lie you live?
for even shadows must stay true to the shade
i don’t explain, i have spoken the facts
as i understand them to be
was it worth it to the breeze that blows all the smoke
you want, i see through it
the sickness at the core of your being
now bite your tongue, you won’t talk to my tell
for all those who know the least ain’t got the most to say
the only way to treat snakes is for belts, boots
and half–ss quotes and quotes that can tell i made in every letter
with [?] carries a club for theft prevention
the heart fled and resound as your chest fried
in which to show your wrists timid
as a canary at a cat show convention
your loss, my goal, my gain
first cl-ss compared to second hand third race
though within lines like fish bait
that’s water under the bridge that you not fixin’ to paddle
and the flood bursts [?] like full bladders
and every head is in a [?] bubble
repulse and twist from the body
with scars like the moon on the pebble skin of the sea
characters aren’t mc’s
mc’s a character whose emotion through intellect drives a spirit to grant one
the will to invent
through honesty and agony is not a question of real
if that motivates one to rob mics, it can’t be wrong
that makes the battle worth the fight
that makes the matter worth the [?]
that makes the question to the answer
that makes reason riddle inside the rhyme
in his mind, the fool can be a king
bald but hair-raising ballbeam
freaks beats like freaks between sheets
no frontier i fear, more fun
the root c-n-l my heart conceals no lie
but keeping real is your alibi
you’d rather kiss the frog who embraced the promise
but never given the guarantee
you could turn into a prince
now your reward is a soul for ransom
but brick shoes won’t break my stride
i chose to fled
got away instead

[hook x4]
(white plains x3)
i take a cozy little trip
on the metro north trains
the blue lines of westchester
i got off at white plains

[verse 2]
if the conscience is the dead speaking out from the grave
instead do we bury the dead alive?
of crawling disease, mc’s on the face of the earth
with the grave is the only cure most never knew fear
from my voice to its ears
like ghosts & spirits come in dreams
with no earth to walk on
alone, the silence forever to moan like they went through lifeless dreams
bears more screams than d-mned souls in torment
played by the joined sounds of mc’s falling apart
as the stars and their eyes are stolen
dis-ssociated for closely applied perceptions not doing the same thing
expecting something else to happen
so pardon me for protruding through the ring
your chest is blowing circles that curve a crescent moon
that diminishes at the rising line
blending into the scenery of other objects
that compete for the benefit of your first attention
because it doesn’t have to
i will always stand alone, on microphones
putty in my palm once i m-ssage your cortex
melted on the tip of the tongue
then watch it sizzle like bacon
every mc or ice cone gets last l1cks
lyrics inserted like [??????] to the beat of a chest of a primate
all natural, but naturally annoying
drowning in your spit is getting kinda boring
thinking you the next god gift to emcee
cause all you do is kick styles free off the head
being stuck like kittens in a tree
pain is living in an illusion that shatters once gl-ss slippers don’t fit
talent not territorial
then scan the area worldwide with eyes on international thighs
to the place that chose to fled
where we can rest our heads

[hook x5]
(white plains x3)
i take a cozy little trip
on the metro north trains
the blue lines of westchester
i got off at white plains

- beans

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