letra de nowhere near - mr. master
[prod. by mr. master]
[intro: (maddy allen)]
mad dog, how many goals are you gonna score tonight?
(four millio-!!!)
[verse: mr. master]
and there i wasn’t, interorupted
daresay we can share us barrel o’ monkeys chained
brigading buckets
if embarrassment blushes weren’t
molasses-floodin’ vascularity plugged
asked, unanswered
it’s january one and that calendar shuffle’s
too sacro for sanctuary from it
what paranoia?
tortoise enough hares and voila you’re clairvoyant
neurocoitus is too resource scarce to spare corners
‘til a sole variable’s in the formula
i own float shares in the nowhere you report it’s from
but the merrier the cure
the more the radiodurant barrier’s hoisted up
tweren’t nunn
since young, i was compilin’ cog parts into disguises
for waltzin’ in vice offices and boston cream piein’ ‘em
now the former cybersecurity director’s tasked me
to protect him from outsiders
and you expect me to keep my hundred-and-forty laff stifled
the spy who unsworled the fractal spiral
unmacroing the micro
custodian of the acetaldehyde your pancreas cries over
societal cirrhosis unjustifiable sober
minus post primal egoic psyche disposal
your life’s just a stolen biovirome
‘til a life-size disulfiram arrives as your chauffeur
no more mr. nicene oath took
your typewritten dullness gets overlooked
demoted respect to the lowest skull in the totem wood
dwarfed by the necessity
that love interject upon grownuphood
earning it unworthy’s the brokenest
“is; thus, should” go-kaputtable
that know-it show-it push and pull’s booked to fullness
and the razzie for actor least conducive to a leadership role
goes to the prep-b-scent hack kabuki-maskin’ as grown
chances your name’s utility stays’re as iffy
as that sticker sayin’ h-llo
when it’s danger, strangers can inuit who vaguely knows
and vagally who will save their souls
since when has making it meant
staying persistent at faking alone?
all you’ll have made is a fakeness behavioral compulsion
ultra true’d it and blew it
disputed the anthrochampionship in losin’
that prize-game stupidness ratio’s point nine perpetuitous
and life waste commutative
reichelt faceplant into the isolation tank
another mice laid plan to quiet game
like the assassin’s likeliness ain’t stochastic
metacognize blame
can’t triazzle through this fire-lit potato famine
outta spite outta timed
mere ultraic solvation catalysis
any meeker’d only inherit a cult persuaded
culdesac o’ soulless sacrilege
catchless wish from the broken dowsing twig: sociopacifism
whole grasp a victim of
noetic overdemand thrown towel syndrome
one letter exponent from a no math picket strut
don’t never give up. it’s inferiorating
fearfully taming the feral’s reclaiming unveils
an arrière-pensée counterarguing nature
if an orange crusader offers to save everyone’s days
and you send him away ‘cause he makes your brain hurt
you trap us all in useless pain only you deserve
self preservation
existential baneship paintpailed from the shadiest hex
in the potential way to live spectrogradient
avolition possessed by the phase-linked collective
abilene death trip unable o’ bein’ derailed against
late-bleed effect o’ replacin’ identity with tribal membership:
a bioelectric bending to the eigenvector central
applied extraparentals. it’s hyperpareto
how sl!ck mantra recital slips to compromised integrity
off mise en scène, on strikes the editor. omnimethodism
like ovules primed confidential
don’t endozoochorous reprise via everything
the nth that keeps constant enthalpy
thought the pedagogical repartee’d be the nonreplicable part
but the s-x lexicon’s locked under repression’s key
can’t get ‘cause i’m daft
vs. can’t talk ‘cause my trauma can’t let me
hotness privilege is a b-tch, but i’d be blonde for not leveraging
enginemen, start your gentlenesses
stylometric p-rs-d through penmanships
for autobiography replenishment
back and better than everpresentness
in counterfact, arson together
meant spark from the same match. save that
the pyrotechnocrat’s spontaneity remains in sp-ce tact
ultra. bang
[outro: sk!lla baby & (jeff teague)]
i really thought you was gon’ be, like
the best point guard in the league, i swear to god
(d-mn. i let you down? f-ck)
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