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letra de numbers. - martin malota

i had a call at a quarter to 3, uneasy speech…
picked up the phone and it was actually me speaking to me
“get the f-ck out of the bed and meet me up at the front!”
i hung up, this is a dream i’m thinking…this is f-cked up

i slept for hours…and it seemed, still in a dream
when i heard a knock followed by somebody trying to open my screen
i knew the door-wall was locked, so i peeped through the blinds
i couldn’t see, but i heard a voice that sounded like mine

“come on martin, stop bullsh-tting b-tch, i’m gonna k!ll you!”
am i the real you, are you me?
“i’m trying to tell you!”
talk about out of body i was looking at me
just trying to register what’s happening and it’s hardly a dream

“i’m you next year, i came to tell you you’re about to make a horrible mistake!”
next year?
“i’m already late, no time to explain, just trust me!”
this is hurting my brain…
“you see me seeing you, just think of mirrors being the same!”

i’m beginning to feel like this ain’t a game, we started walking…
every time i began talking he’s like
“just wait martin this is crucial, it’ll change the outcome of our lives!”
i hit the gas trying to push it driving i-75

this is crazy, i’m nervous, my palms sweating, perturbed
and enough that this is me with me, i can’t see the purpose
and then the truth came out in one swoop, a tightened noose
cause i remember that murder was the case that they gave snoop

in the coupe contemplating my life, he said
“five cats with gats aimed at me and had a knife to my wife
the tension was thick and a pin drop could shatter a brick
i’m thinking about charging them, but any move would do us both in!

and then our son ran out in the room and yelled ‘surprise!’
he was shot in the temple, blood came out of the side
my wife was crazy, she looked at me with fire in her eyes
when i nodded we started taking out all five of these guys

she was cut in her arm, then she was shot in the throat
i grabbed a gat from one of their hands and started going for broke!
they k!lled you three and this is what happened to me in the act
of bravery…you tried to save your wife so i’m back

in the form of a ghost to greet you and forewarn you in hope
that the choices you make in life won’t put my life on a hold!”
a tear fell from my eyes…i saw me crying and cried
i’m dying inside with anger and i’m trying to just drive

at about 9 o’clock, i stopped in the parking lot
stopped to watch five cops on the spot next to the drop
then my future self popped the locks and he grabbed a bag
out the back and told me
“sit tight, the blocks too hot!”

that’s when i asked him, why the f-ck we sitting at the faction then?
i told him that i have a man in, says he has an in…
“sure he does and you about to get signed
but the f-cked up sh-t is, once you do you’re gonna die!”

[dialogue]
what the f-ck you mean i’m gonna die?
“you’re gonna die!”
what are you talking about man?
“they’re gonna come out with your posthumous debut album. these motherf-ckers are shady as f-ck…they’re headed to your house. they’re gonna try and k!ll you…your wife…your kid.”
no no slow down
“no i’m telling you! they’re gonna k!ll you, your wife and your kid. they’re gonna f-cking drop your album and make money off of your…”
what the f-ck are you talking about?
“i’m telling you dude. you need to go in the building…you need to k!ll the motherf-cking ceo before they announce this sh-t!”
h-ll no
“you have to dude…there’s no f-cking choice. everything that you need’s in this motherf-cking bag. take this…”
okay
“handle business…”
okay i got it
“…so we can live!”

fixed my tie through my reflection, while walking into the building
i’m illin…armani suit, i’m just trying to be a chameleon
k!lling time, i view the directory, people next to me
briefcases and lap top bags every accessory…

the name i’m looking for, was like, up 70 floors
hit the spot people scrambling through elevator doors
i paused and saw the scene…it was like, it was a dream
surreal with vivid colors but mostly, i’m smelling green

in any case, avoiding the staircase was ominous
the lobby was packed i’ll probably just stay anonymous
70 floors? its obvious i’ll wait til it clears…
ducked through the elevator and heard somebody say, “he’s here!”

gave chase while i raced, feels like i’m running in place…
the elevator’s made of gl-ss, you know it’s hard to save face
turned around to see the doors, i stopped it at 64
walked out…hit the stairs climbing, it’s only 6 more

when i got out…reached in my bag and i pulled out a flask
poured the wax on my face and changed with clothes in the bag
straight out of face off, i paced off and slid in the hall
put on the fedex uniform and now it’s time to play ball

everything was immaculate, floors were black lacquer, with doors
to ceilings, white with platinum album plaques on it
stagnant, then i managed travel after a gander…
the man i was looking for was in the back with some managers

[dialogue]
“where you at?”
i’m upstairs man, i can’t get back there
“where the f-ck are you at?!”
i can’t get back there dude
“nah…h-ll no, you ain’t giving up on this sh-t. you gotta do this…”
i can’t do…i can’t do anything about it, there’s way too many f-cking witnesses man
“you about to be a motherf-cking witness to your own murder…and i’m gonna be stuck here in the past and sh-t, not knowing what the f-ck to do. all these motherf-ckers care about are numbers. whether it’s album sales or you being a statistic. they don’t give a f-ck.”

- martin malota

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