PODcast: Exacting revenge on butt probing aliens
A hip hop joint with ATS pertinent content, enjoy!
length: 05:03
file: btsmpod_1709.mp3
size: 4157k
feed: btsm
status: hold (at time of posting)
I flash like gordon when i'm boarding
flying saucers at 4:20 in the morning
i give warning it's obscene what i've seen
how codin the genes make the human machines
caffiene fiends input routine i vaccine
motorola pepsi cola mind control ebola
virus dialate your iris to desirous
levels of material consumerism
matrix is the prism existence
a three dimesional prison in ya midst
resist or persist to exist in false bliss
i insist, i'll assist who's next on the list
soul patriot breaks the matrix with the mind
but it takes an intertwined
combined thought from mankind
divine entity if diverse identity
of you and me nad they and the
ones who see truth in patterns of lies
fractal disguise i advise you
to open thee eyes and survey the landscape
plot the escape leave no evidence on tape
shift shape and operate undercover
discover how elohim make flying saucers hover
zigzag and fly through the wormhole
grip the control'n i "drive it like it's stolen"
strollin past black holes
duckin galactic patrol is how i roll
when i'm the unit at the console
my destination an alien space station
at the lagrangian location of the Zeta R
system of stars ridin far in this cigar
shaped object detect and collect
THEM and inspect they whole subject
wit probes under they robes
like they did to us it's just
exacting revenge is a must.
Drifting down from luminence,
reach for nothing but find the line
between death and the still beating heart
revolutions revolve as evolution dissolves,
and the dark ones play god all over again.
Signposts mark the way of the blind herd
migrating toward some unsaid promise of false happiness,
filling pockets and emptying souls.
Pathwys of the mind mindless blind and numb stumbling and staggering across the room
finding only the west wall staring at the lost with dull moonlit pale as the light penetrates the
cracks of a self made security blanket of concrete and sweat pouring from the veins
of the machines the power whores built with blood money of forgotten races
crushed beneath concrete in the name of a sick backwards progress.
Closing doors, crumbling walls falling inward upon self so dead and mechanized
as pistons pound and wheels turn and electrons flow in a synchronous ballet of effficiency.
What progress we have made since the stone age when man was free.
Much better being a slave to automation, made my coffee for me,
made them all go away with removed self.
Can you see whan you died and became one of the machines?
Now you can't leave or they will shoot to kill.
Concentration camps built of stucco and silicon we guard our own borders.
"They're different" now they've lost their right to breathe says the mass of clones
as crushed bone becomes earth once again and green grass grows from spilled blood
of the damned on the fields where war is grown.
Justifiable homicide, genocide, but only after suicide caue it all comes back around.
Trance ending in reality, or so they say.
iuno man, i liked ur other one better than this, ya flow needs work imo, i just cant seem to get into it as much as i'd like to, and its too bad, cuz
the lyrics are real nice...just keep working at it homie...