I saw it all: people starting to break, spray, freestyle, and making those records fly rhythmically. That’s when I knew I had to make my own music. I had friends and instruments around me, but I realized I just wanted to dive deep into the sound... listening past the lyrics to the beats, the drums, the timing of the cuts, the breaks, and the samples. I’ve been chasing those samples for decades now, and I’m still on that hunt. I can finally live out my producer vision and turn that sound into a finished product. [Intro] "Yo... the sky just turned purple. Check the radar, the pigeons are wearing tuxedoes tonight. Raw silk and dirty water... Yeah... let the ink mutate." [Verse 1] I’m eating lightning bolts | for breakfast on a paper plate My shadow’s doing backflips | while the buildings levitate Microphone’s a dragon tail | whipping through the subway air Rhymes taste like copper | I’m the nightmare in the barber chair Pockets full of meteorites | jingling like diamond chains I’m swimming through the static | while it’s pouring purple rain Streetlights are telescopes | watching how the hustle breathe I pull a galaxy | out of my tattered leather sleeve My flow’s a guillotine | chopping up the hologram Sprinting through the circuit boards | of a cosmic traffic jam... [Hook - Male Soul Sample Chop] "Electric dreams... | in a concrete box... Unlock the universe... | without the keys or locks..." [Hook - Male Soul Sample Chop] "Electric dreams... | in a concrete box... Unlock the universe... | without the keys or locks..." [Verse 2] Yo, the sidewalk’s a piano | I’m walking on the black keys My lyrics are piranhas | swimming through the seven seas I juggle hand grenades | like they were circus rubber balls Graffiti’s coming to life | jumping off the project walls Brain’s a supercomputer | cooling in a bucket of ice I’m gambling with gravity | throwing the mercury dice Taxi cabs got eagle wings | flying over the bridge tonight Every bar’s a lightning strike | blinding your peripheral sight I’m the architect of chaos | building castles out of smoke The city’s just a funny skit | and I’m the punchline of the joke... [Verse 3] My tongue’s a soldering iron | fusing the beat to the bone... I’m broadcasting transmissions | from a telepathic throne... Raindrops turn to marbles | bouncing off the Cadillac hood... I’m doing kung-fu | in a neighborhood made of wood... The moon’s a disco ball | spinning on a rusty nail... I’m catching solar flares | in a golden-crusted pail... Atomic-level swagger | dripping from the dusty mic... The kind of psychedelic | that the street-demons like... [Outro] [Voice 1] "The cartoon is real... the reality is a sketch." [Voice 2] "Keep your goggles on. It's getting messy." [Sample Chop] "Electric... dreams... electric... dreams..."
