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Braille - Scatter Brain
(from the album Scatter Brain)
© copyright 2005


Over the world, yeah, hip hop in your speaker box
Canít stop it

With no set release date, beat breaks, and samples
Braille on the rhymes, Bombay on the tables
Title track, vital signs in your vinyl crate
But wide awake when itís late, cuz we love to create
Craze the flavor we favor, tailor-made for your boom box
I wouldnít trade it for nothing, we didnít train for nothing
So much time in the bedroom consumed practicing rapping and scratching
Now watch what happens when two worlds collide in the same galaxy
With a universal sound and (weíre down with the ?)
Underground and mainstream, letís not stress how far it goes
We just love the art form, bring it from the soul
Surviving, lay it on the line, never hesitate
Success isnít determined by how many CDís we replicate
The current state of hip hop is past ? reprobate
Instead of complaining, we just rehabilitate

CHORUS:
(And thatís my steelo) (Use brains over muscle)
(Braille) (Mess up your whole) (thought pattern)
(Serious business) (Staying underground)
(Braille) (Making it east to see)
(And thatís my steelo) (Use brains over muscle)
(Braille) (Mess up your whole) (thought pattern)
(Serious business) (Staying underground)
(Braille) (Making it east to see)

This is sharp-shooting, dart spitting, transparent transmissions
Ambitious, rhyme vicious parable to cash fishing
Role playing, name saying, Braille Brizzy game changing
? that Goliath, not fame chasing
Violent flames blazing from the tip of my torch
Swallow it and illuminate in the darkest of wars
In this cipher Iím a sight to see, but Iím no Messiah
Just a messenger following true pillars of fire
They call me the illest, but thatís really just a nickname
The illest is the ones killing for the sake of the game
It happens on the streets and internationally
Eternal affairs got us sleeping with the enemy
And raising seeds, facing mazes with no exit signs
Every time I think about it, I start losing my mind
Stop it, my pockets are full of receipts and candy wrappers
Dues been paid, now prepare for the next chapter

CHORUS

Every track Iím spitting on classic, you can get it quick
When itís me and Bombay, amateurs we send them home
Instantaneous with lessons from the craziest
Emcee, they catch Rex? and ZZ Top without their greatest hits
Play this on youíre A-list playlist, take it to the top
I canít afford to pay for slots?, but if I got time, Iíll lace some drops
Radio, radio, read me but donít copy sloppily
Pop me in rotation, give the tears, sweat, and mahogany
Probably ill enough to catch a shot just for killing it
Yaíll used to be better than me, but you stopped being diligent
All you do nowadays is sit back and complain
And when I hear you on tracks, you complain with sounds
Iím still hungry even though my plate is full with work to do
My circle is never square and my God is always merciful
Worst of all, Iím not mad, Iím just flexing a little bit
Text for the illiterate, mos def legitimate

(Pay attention real close, we just begun) (Bad meeting you) (Give up)