"A Very Blunt Question"



I keep my head on straight A great veteran craftsman
Out the gate I dictate, you’re taking letters like aspirin
If I backspin, you can claim electric boogaloo
Don’t mask your glancing, I expect a look or two
So pull it in tight, go ‘head and take a knee
Providing lines for Sticks like I traced a tree
So if you’re facing me, just grab the towel and toss it
I’m a firewalker, you can ask Lou Gossett
Create the sound around percussion loops
So let’s break it on down like discussion groups
And dissect the specs like some unhinged glasses
Might not melt your face, but I can singe your lashes
I’m never fazed by malaise I shake it off and sit tight
Crazy these days, I’m drinking coffee at midnight
Spurs the words, don’t wanna switch to Sanka
Till I’m heard around the world like I was hitting off Branca

Do it like my duty yo, I’m bumping the rafters
I’ve been living in the studio like Jeff “Skunk” Baxter
Put my mind to these lines then already we sold you
It’s like it’s 1985 and I’m Eddie Fiola
Half pipe or the flatlands with my trick routine
Grabbing mics with a backhand and I’m fielding ‘em clean
These syllables’ll fill you full so stock up on Tums
Shooting beats from the hip It’s like I pocketed drums
I don’t knock it and run I wait for doors to open
The only way you’ll be down? I’ll stop your forward motion
You got a sorcerer’s potion? Man, that’s just dry ice
My metaphorical quotient? Yeah, it might suffice
Nice, tight, and precise wasting words is for amateurs
Write my line up and then observe like a manager
I blur the parameters, pixelate the restrictions
Making sure that the wack Rx’ed out like prescriptions

Eating you up, a sketchy Texas leaguer
So watch the tough hop, it might deflect to the bleachers
It’s a knee jerk I got it all and it’s humbling
Talik on the keys Sometimes we call him Al Bumbry
And it’s funny-you think your path is set
But you’ll be in the bargain bin next to a Jackyl cassette
It’s what you get for rope-a-dopin’ the same old
Here’s hoping that my flows’ll get you open like gatefolds
So take hold, these roads are lined with chaos
Battled back to 3-2 and now it’s time for the payoff
But you’re way off and it’s beginning to hurt
Your team plays like Peter Gabriel-they’re digging in dirt
I’ll just begin in first and bypass the formalities
Your pep talk’s a crock, man, you rallied a fallacy
I tally analogies I’m a rap stat geek
Poring over box scores until the track’s complete