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letra de black box underground - ghettori¢

[verse 1]
i could take any comment and flip the script
but yo i just say “thanks” and bank the clip
i got a fat stack of bullets, rhetorical quips
perpetually under key, hammer never hits
despite logic tight fade and straight blade rhet’ric
the lather of teacher blather ain’t never stick
the point is not to auto-f-ll-te the d-ck
i just keep interrogating, method socratic
they flip a lit switch and the bulb incandescent
yo i keep interrogating, method socratic
pupils wide with wattage as wisdom cl!ck
yo i never quit spitting ‘fore the bell get hit
(actually, it’s more of an electronic tone)

[verse 2]
(it makes me sick to my stomach, but…)
you know, i’ve known one too many fake readers (assh0l-!)
it’s a race to the bottom (duncan) when you’re a bottom-feeder (catfish)
puking pink monkey notes and what the last kid spat
around your words good looks and privilege, bacon-wrapped
little did you know you get a smack for that, man
step up making fake money mockery
the disciplined and the wise they all look to me
like “what you gonna do?” (do?)
“who you gonna be?” (who?)
your bars stale, attitude fresh, throat frail, you tone-deaf
you self-fail, your mind’s mesh, diction pale like dead flesh
throwing down, spitting gif, you puff your chest
but i chew up your rhymes, stick ‘em under the desk
[bridge]
brrdt-stick-em-ha-ha-ha-stick-em
brrdt-stick-em-ha-ha-ha-stick-em
(brrdt-stick-em-ha-ha-ha-stick-em)
gonna rock the beatbox with the fresh funky rhythm
(shout out to kool rock-ski, pmd, hbb)

[verse 3]
if benicio said of me, “yo, ghettori¢ flip you for real,” (flip you)
it’s just my skin that i’m flexing for reputation appeal (it’s looks)
but then again, i best caution–don’t let gossip define (why?)
the serpent worm of that chatter grows a venom tooth in time (fleance)
if i were what they say, uxoricide in the classroom (vocab…)
be teach on weed, on ecstasy, or maybe micro-dosing shroom
(but honestly) a white boy tried to sell me nitrous in tulum (really, dude?)
but i ain’t never huff drug from a kid’s balloon (that’s right)
if i can’t teach on your drug, yo keep it out of my face
melt words in a spoon, torch iambic freebase
stoned on a constance hale sentence, high as sp-ce
return to form with a warm beverage, caffeine-laced
(coffee or tea, motherf-cker…
french roast, earl gray
sometimes english breakfast.)

- ghettori¢

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