Lights Out

from 1967 EP by MICL

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lyrics

Brand new Polo shirt, damn
I'mma be the man when I go to work
To pay it off 'cause now my dough is hurt
Though it's worth every dollar
'Cause I'm styling on ya so berserk
Right up until- 'Why do I feel unfulfilled?'
Even if I get it free me from materialistic quick fixes
Need to quit this

I hope the umpire never calls me safe
I wanna be out of line and off base
I mean compared to all these fakes all up in my face
Falling over every obstacle and crawling at an awfully slow pace
I hope the empire knows my face
Opposed to the state, apostate
They dream of solving every problem with the same mistakes
That got us in these nightmares in the first place
What a waste

So once the house lights go up and you take a bow
And everybody claps at that trash it's time to take it out
Answer- 'be true'
What is 'what will I do?'

To style like it's 1967
Think deep like breaths, so fresh, so heavenly
Just speaking in shallow metaphors, I of course to the
Worship of material object conscientiously

How do we justify means when there's no end in sight?
If we live in end days then men begin nights
Ian Fleming penning, I'm living it twice
No bonds, just words free as birds mid-flight
I'mma peace out, yo, it's been nice
I'mma scurry and bounce, I'll turn out the lights
Don't worry an ounce about if these heads bite
'Cause spitting my rhymes would crack their windpipes

Seek more than just preaching to a chorus
Get popped like a collar if your persona's a performance
Be Cassius ducking the draft, Dick Gregory on a fast
When police sirens flash put a foot on the gas
But not even to run away, aim and hit Agent Smith
Even back in '66 he had a role that payed
Don't need to leave my state to see IA
Or be a dead poet to seize my day
You see, the way I see it, lose what's in your dresser drawer
'Cause sometimes less is more, okay?