Secret
beats: DJ Lo-kut
guest rap: Séamus
(Henry)
first there was my birth then chaos came quickly
I tried to keep from going nuts but growing up was tricky
when home seemed to be where the delirious roamed
tried to hint them ‘bout my secrets – like talking to a stone
that’s no way to treat your children – it will either kill them
or isolate them from the world
as if their name was Peter Stillman
but well – anyhow – that’s me in a nutshell
after all I stuck around
since then I’ve had my ups and downs
both embraced and fucked around
picked up and smacked back on the ground
reminiscing over times that I’m now missing
I’ve written so many rhymes about you wise one
what’s the point of denying the truth
you’re no longer my butterfly – you’re but a fly in my soup
an aching memory of my dying old youth
spreading through my thoughts and it’s burning like hell
maybe I should try to come to terms with myself
well it’s time to begin – I’ve got a list now of my sins
tattooed all over my body on the inside of my skin
a pain I can’t explain except that in time it’ll win
am I dead or just asleep? there’s but a thin line in between
now I’m about to leave you – see I encountered evil
and looked straight into it’s deadlights
just to see what it felt like
it didn’t kill me but sure it made me tipsy
call me Henry Bowers – it’s the only name that fits me
I’ve got a dark secret and you dared me to show it
I take credit for these songs but I’m barely a poet
I’m but a messenger as far as I can tell
these songs seem to write themselves
(Séamus)
I am but a vessel for the message in any situation
where words run the track like a train in search of a station
I stay cryptic enough for open interpretation
still plain enough to convey narrow scoped information
it’s just a part of my mysterious charm
with a wide range span between delirious and calm
it’s fairly long gone but I’m serious mom
this far it hasn’t succumbed to any serious harm
meanwhile – conspiracy bombs drop at an exponential rate
FRA legislate straight phone tapping – great!
bend over once again for the eye in the sky
annihilating those who won’t try to comply
we die in denial without scanning the bigger picture
I throw my words in the batch to add to a thicker mixture
packing a mean elixir helping me to self contain
independent thought but who’s independent, mayn?
where all products of what surrounds our slot – plenty
of free thinkers resort to be drinkers once they figure out
not many can win a bigger bout without compromising
so resort to the TV couch receiving strong enticing
of new products ready to flood every country, state
borough and hood with currents reoccurring to generate
currency excess for a minority that’s reckless
Shame and Henry project over Lo-kut’s success
