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letra de h. immortui threnody (like a poet) [ft. saia] - departure (rap)

[chorus: sole (sample)]
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence

[verse 1: departure]
wrapped up in a grease-covered page
the table made an imprint where my hand once laid
argue with my fate, metaphorical coin purpose paid
there’s a head and tail for every one percent on the side of the face
the light is a microcosm against the ink
stop looking at me, i hate the eyes and i gave them various names
like geneveive, lauren, mary and marie
under the protocol still screaming, “you can hear the sea”
i’m playing marco polo with isacoo mo-newtono
and screaming in a louisianan creole with yoko ono
quid pro quo, pro bono, a rapper speaking in legalese
is unfit to speak on what he or she might believe
i’m gonna repeat it again and again
side by side in their original crate
side by side in their original crate
side by side in their original crate
side by side in their original crate
side by side in their original crate
and i’m more like creole, nassau when i pass the port
spilling more blood and gore across the floor
i’m bored of the borgores and he-said-she-saids
standing highly pious, mic henchmen next to white fences
confession cabin in a catholic church, i am so highly blessed
i am a greedy trenchman crushing defenses
i’m not a protestian, not a protestant, now problem this
not in a partnership, i’m sinking ships, b-tch
[chorus: sole (sample)]
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence

[verse 2: saia]
playing battleship with these titanic problems, it’s
all kind of nonsense being spoken with confidence
they tryna con our opulence, giving rot to our consciousness
i’m tryna ostracize these bird brains, ostriches
ostensibly if i do too much they gon’ get rid of me
but my ego is enormous, can’t belittle me, riddle me this
why the free world give fake liberty if
they coiling ’round like cobras with inaudible hiss?
now all of a sudden everybody claiming they bit
but truthfully the internet’s the only place that they live
sh-t, with all these problems, i’d also rather live in 8-bit
all these incompetent leaders make it hard to make sense
and nowadays the only clark they talk about is caitlin
word is they looking for hbcu replacements
then say we make it ’bout race when
this ideology predates them, assimilated hatred
[chorus: sole (sample)]
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence
too bad the world don’t rhyme
and teachers like us get paid like the homeless
a cage without benefits, living like hostages
soundproofing the world ’cause doug e. fresh said silence

[verse 3: departure]
i’m a screaming phoenix above the black hole of a precipice
it’s pulchritudinous (reference), i’m morose and lugubrious
he is very much a fan of nostalgia from the rusty paper
care too much about haircuts to get a low tape fader
or low taper fade, one could say she is a fake or fraud
i had busdriver playing on my ipod, and that was a lie
no one uses an ipod or breaks their spine unless they’re born in f-cking 1985
dead soldiers in treason regiments, standing in sediment
screeched at the bees with speech impediments
i’m a bu-bu-bug on a flower (lord)
lord question me to a holy higher power
illiterate but still flipping to the brokers below the twin towers
alliteration in your brain, held to a gun against the frame (insane in the membrane)
insane in the membrane, i’mma be on my white bukowski bullsh-t
flip it, had a matte finish in the pulpit
screaming like you got your cherry popped, f-ck switching up positions
a few things about the sinnerman that i can’t stick to mention
and i’m just waiting till i get my pension
pimping, just spending cheese until i win the election
l!ck lyrics while i p-ss on dipsh-ts and diss the pickled lids
b-tch, i could clear your whole crew while i’m taking a sh-t
call in the bomb squad, see if they come up with some kinda sh-t like this
and that’s on color field, b-tch

- departure rap

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