(Verse 1)
Still trying to wake up 4 hours into the day/ which is a lot like the prior and the next I imagine/ So there it is, tunnel vision in a cave/ I'll keep the word palpable and focus on my passions/ I'm old fashioned, 'cause I don't rock a flat bill/ I'll ill. I'm sick. I'm congested. I'm ailing/ Cro magnun man, bury me under an ant hill/ I'll be the least healthy and still prevailing/ I'm a dick, most people are b!tches, fuck 'em/ Not a victim, I'm a symptom of the environment in which I function/ I retire when I'm tired all the time/ Life is music so the only way to retire is to die/ My lines don't punch, they infect/ Spread undetected, and leave the host dead/ So instead of learning the steps to this dance, don't bother/ Just soil your pants, while I roil these waters/ Coil into the fetal, shrivel little larva/ Who needs wings anyway? This is your karma/ Of course there's no me without you/ it takes two, like hydrogen to a water molecule/ So thank you. As we all try to harmonize/ From the twinkle in our father's eyes/ to the first sign of Alzheimer's/ We're all part of the fire that burns for eternity/ We're the eyes of the universe to admire it's beauty so...
(chorus)
WAKE UP! There's a blaze on our heals, ripping through the hills, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US! Grab your stuff. WAKE UP! There's a wall of water standing coming down the canyon, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US!
(Verse 2)
If hell is down, its funny how the music that we make is underground/ Its something to wonder about/ Like, are we so damn trained to view our selves with disdain/ if we hint the slightest bit against the main stream grain?/ Well, turn away 'cause if you heard me maybe you would turn the page/ and raise a ruckus in your perfect little turtle cage/ You're just a stat like murder rate/ I need to medicate to ease the pain in my lower vertebra / So i can attack like a bird of prey: distract and terminate/ Leave it on the stage and turn grey before I learn to pace/ myself. If you want to have it and eat it to, purge the cake/ persevere my little herd mate/ Let's debate about the existence of pearly gates/ 'cause all we got is time to waste right?/ I see the pride and it written on your face/ but that's a deadly sin, now what does that taste like?
(bridge)
Today/ You say/ Say who?/ Who thank?/ You thank/ Thank who?/ Today!/ Do they get it?/ They do/ love[fuck] 'em all either way/ 'cause I'm in a great mood...
(chorus)
WAKE UP! There's a blaze on our heals, ripping through the hills, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US! Grab your stuff. WAKE UP! There's a wall of water standing coming down the canyon, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US!
(verse 3)
At times I deserve to lose. At times I deserve to win/ At times I take it well, Other time I rub it in/ I'm a cock, represent '81/ Pisces, Feb. 25, king of clubs/ Ric Balls, see through a brick wall, with time/ Your eyes can't stop me from spying on your mind/ Or hiding on your mind/ Inevitably being on your mind all the time/ Fell free to cop a feel of mine/ Admire the design, don't desire my decline/ Together we burn brighter, let us find a hill to climb/ You and I combined, our energy is only amplified/ Open up your eyes and you can hold these little hands of mine.
Wake up x4
(chorus)
WAKE UP! There's a blaze on our heals, ripping through the hills, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US! Grab your stuff. WAKE UP! There's a wall of water standing coming down the canyon, and they've got their orders to EVACUATE US!
credits
from Muscles to Frown,
track released July 24, 2015
Small Hands wrote, recorded, produced, mixed, and mastered it.
Small Hands, AKA Richie Wallace is an, independent rapper/producer from Colorado. He uses words to reach beneath the surface
of everyday life. His thoughts and ideas are conveyed in a comprehensive manner, with a sarcastic style that compliments the ever-maturing sound of conscious, underground hip-hop. The live show is high energy and introspective....more
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