Fixed

[Verse 1]
Ayo, it's time for me to ride my invitation to the room
A product of them baby-boomers, but I never believed in kids blowin' up into celebrities
With no indemnities these cartoon characters makin' tunes
But you can't pay no dues in wombs
But in return, I burn my etching on the moon
I learned my lesson on the loom, in essence, I will truly bloom
I paint with all the colors of the wind like I was Judy Kuhn
I tend to hit that booty soon, type of pum-pum I will consume
When I'm bangin', I'm goin' "Boom-Boom-Boom"
And brothers think I'm out there, rainin' pain in your contained monsoon
I'll play your game like Final Doom
Where there's no end take it to 64 levels of graphic planes
And you can feel the texture mappin' on your brain
What's next to happen doesn't change
I resume, so don't assume I flex to rappin' just for cappin'
I'm laughin' at these wannabe MCs, desolated like dune
My tracks are more anticipated than the month of June in public schoolrooms
I've got that "Boom-Boom-Bap, Original Rap"
I wanna track it back, so fuck the clappin' gats and satin macks
Cause I've got tons of backing that's available to crack a stack of the wackest actors tryin' to rap – they're gettin' flat
Like the bitches I used to peep in 7th grade
It's 7 days till dawn, while RBM we breakin' the norm to keep it on
And even though I'm Monotone at certain points within my diction
My depiction of reality is fixed within your vision
'Cause you're fixed

[Chorus]
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Lyrically overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, lyrically overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Lyrically overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, lyrically overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed

[Verse 2]
So, Skiddly-Bebop, yo, We-Rock, Scooby Doo
Guess what, America? "We Love You"
With a Rock and a Roll, and there's so much soul
Yo, we'll be rockin' 'til we're a hundred and one years old
Now, I don't mean to brag and yo, I don't mean to boast
But I'm the host with the most that rocks shows coast to coast
East-West meets best, 305, like, whatever, hops
I format the rhythm to give you the whole big picture like its letterbox
And, yo, it never stops – I'm that bunny energizin'
Purgatori's under the pink, don't play boy scouts when I'm exercisin'
But, I digress
I press the bench for time, your deadlines make me late
Don't stall to sell me a quarter pounder for $6.50, yo, cause that ain't worth the wait
I'm wizzin' on your click, and still you insist I'm on your dick
You're just a sparkle-puss, like David Copperfield's hookers are Magic Tricks
Imagine this: you're smokin' cannabis while I'm becomin' the man at this
Amateur panelist, plan to turn purple like an amethyst
In a world with no Quartz, basketballs, laws, or gems
To which it applies, the moment I visualize the bitter demise of them
I hit 'em when eyes are blind to minimalize their literal lies, and then
I sit and I fiddle with the rhymes they've crafted and they get shafted in the end
Ask the question
Who got the rhythm? I'm comin' off like Janet's panties
Ever since 1814, and gratefully she don't wear Grannies
'Cause that's deader than Jerry Garcia, but via his fans I need a fix
To crack the heads of these self-pipe-tootin', lyrical bitches suckin' dicks
You're fixed

[Chorus]
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Publicly overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, publicly overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Publicly overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, publicly overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed

[Instrumental Break]
Tonedeff, ninety-X

[Verse 3]
MCs are fixed but never mended, they get blue in the face
And that be, like, true in the case where there's no space for gravity
"I Breathe Deep", 'cause the malady that salary's the strategy
Of the modern rap academy saddens me
Studied the anatomy of musicality where critics are the analogy observed
Don't give a shit about the Comp-U-Serve
You virtually can't escape the net reality casts
Because my web be worldwide, better believe I got my sign-on your ass
I be that prodigy that raves onlines of text in America
I still refuse to be your fuckin' cartoon character
'Cause, babe, I keep it pure
So, maybe if my death was premature, then I'd be sure to win an award
And you can quote that from the source, I criticize my critics
Shit, it must've broken down some doors, 'cause now we minimize the limits
That's set inside us by the cynics; and those who wanna mimic this with tricks
Get diminished down the River of Styx
'Cause you're fixed

[Chorus]
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Critically overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, critically overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated
Niggas be fixed
Critically overrated
Niggas be fixed
Creatively castrated, critically overrated
And, yo, nothing's innovated, ayy
Niggas be fixed

[Outro]
Yo, check it out now (Check it out now)
And it don't stop, ha (ha)
One-two, this is how we do, RBM crew, non-stop
Ninety-what? Ninety-what? Ninety-[?]
Everybody worldwide (Baby-baby)
Street life poetry (Street life poetry)
Check it out
(Niggas be fixed)
Ha
Check it, ha
Feel it, baby (Feel it, baby)
Check it out, ha
Ah, yeah