Текстове на песни: Atoms Family. The Prequel. Who Am I? (Remix).

Here it is...

[Verse One]
When I hear ass backwards bastards
Basting beats with wack words
And blasphemous tactics
I die inside
Like Cyanide
Silence I'd rather hear
I hold this rather dear
And leave you trapped like deer
In the headlights of your all consuming stereotypes
My stereo types letters of resignation
Upon recognition
Of your tape playing on decks within its system
As it enters self destruction
Squelch discussion
On these simple matters
Since the average senseless chatter
Sends us data centuries backwards
And perhaps I blame this on the blankness stated
In your blanket statements
with Basis stasis I'll
Blank your slate if
The opportunity arrives
To stop your lunacy cries
Of loosely knit sighs of sadness
that last a vast stint
once stagnance hit your forlorn
After which foregone conclusion
are clued in to loose end
anicdotes
Featuring handmade quotes
Cant get past my manmade moat
Of circular rhymes
In the circus you'll climb
As a mental freak
Not meant to seep
Into the fabrics of my soul
Fragments of control
Hinder your abilities
While splintering facilities
Causing mental revolution
Your mental sends pollutants
In the environment
In a vile sense
We're the same since our aim remains to make each others jobs more difficult
Yet your distant gloats
Just cant float
On my evaporated seas
Perhaps we'll wait and see
How this destructive conflict ends
But buss how if you win
I'll become a brown cloak on the ground
your soul I'll hound more powerful than you can fathom
When I fan some some spirited lyrics in your direction
Your reflection lead to self doubt that swarms like locus
While I remain the focus
Of your internal dialogue
Youre inoperable like a sun dial in fog
Obsolete
When I ??? like spheres from Reptile
Jeer you for your textiles
Cant compare to complex styles
Needed for crossbreeding
Counter cultures cross bearing
For clowns and vultures
dosed with jolts of pontif concepts that contract jaundice
while joint stints Northern strips more then strip
The bright eyed bushy tailed
The lightside should prevail
So your light side to no avail
You should of learned your lesson
Simply lied and simplified
Your message is more or less
That your moral lesson is simply dead in my eyes

[Chorus]
ALASKA..Master of braniac soopafly

I'm simply tearing through
Your simple satirical mirrored bull
That's clearly swill and clear its still Clearasil
Cant cleanse your blemished surface
In the end your worthless
Placed in work camps
To make vanity Alaska license plates
You lice will pay
When my Lysol spray
Disinfects your sickly nest
Sickening mess that's meant for mass consumption
Lumped in vast assumption
Youre caste is crumbling
When I cast my stumbling blocks
You sinners flock
to my skinners block
gold skin ox
Quest for cheese
But once you hit the switch
I switch from currency to currencies of 9000 volts
In my seas currently theres 9000 boats
Poised to attack
With tactical tact
In fact the tacky and wack are trapped
Theres no escape at that rate
Your lapped once our sect
hits parsec
Circle your wagons
And I'll still work your lagging barnacle incrusted
Rusted idle warship
Ive had enough of idol worship
That's warped shit
Only you grant credibility
I run the gamut on incredible ability
Your decrepit facility
Reflects sterility
Through exercises in futility
I skillfully gather virility
At Indian point nuclear power generators
Whose copies lose quality with every generation
Degradation to inaudible audio
Less than original visual
Holding candle light vigils
Til the death of individualism
In this land of no vision
I'm fed up with wretched retrograde rejects
With weak text
You made your bed so lie in it
With your security blanket like Linus
I draw the line at this
I dare you to knock this battery off my shoulder
That awful odor is you your decomposing composition
Constant wishing it was written by Alaska
As for actors asthmas a factor
Because you lack the breath control
From asbestos inhalation
Your best flows an imitation of my masterpiece
This master seems to block out the sun
Forced to live in my shadows like Punxsutawney Phil
I'm so much beyond your skills its disgusting
Distinguished professors discussing
What this linguist treasure is bustin