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letra de bedlam - imp (@theuncannyimp)

[verse 1]
welcome to terrordome, hip-hop’s dead when my pen is gone
peep the lexicon and see my perspective on
living broke and set apart, with my culture obsessed upon
by hegemony co-opting your movement for they net income
de-fang your crusade, ladi dadi with perspectives on
keeping you content, therefore complacent thru their deception, ‘cuz
they vampires for livelihood, skew praxis til it’s nearly gone
got sundries scared of guns, while the fascists be already armed
could be my time is short, temerity in this life of war
far from a debutant, last album i wrecked the p-wns
now in zugzw-ng, zone 6 where they direct the bombs
edit text, they ain’t as righteous as they pretend they are
erase your name and claim change a change of face like galvatron
i’m not made slave away labor days like aesop rock
here to stop bloodshed like menopause, bring thunder like the mighty thor
second to none, come to survival, my style’s beyond–

[chorus]
political bedlam
don’t let the hype enter your eyes and ear drums, you better (run run)
cl!ck boom
don’t trust opposition til u know for he a dead one, you better (run run)
the world in rancor
lawmakers seek obedience under the guise they care more, you better (run run)
keep your head down
don’t lose your cap stickin’ ’round for the stare down, you better (run run)
[verse 2]
welcome to the battlefront
political bedlam, pain the activists cantankerous
heard opps yell “blast the punks!”, i pray you’re fast on foot
to halt is capture with no chance to catch your lungs
landlords gentrify your hood, raise what your flats will cost
displace the natives, system full of s-d-sts and n-z- punks
will you speak up? comport like felines jacked your tongue?
r-t-rd their ascent or let them climb on you like ladder rungs?
government full of roaches, but won’t dare to match the blunt
take the leaders on, hide em all till the ransom come
thought they was fly, leave their corpses full of maggots, bruh
i’m so wavy, got me stuntin’ to the maximum
fist raised, this an averment from this anarchist
guillotine sickle swing through the throats of the masters, ’cause
i fear no man nor munitions, stand tall, the last to run
with fragile trust, believe diplomats’ tongue when my casket comes

- imp theuncannyimp

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