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best metric - doseone lyrics

rap is now shadowing rock, finding its hit song version of stock
perfect for bots or a cop, alas, how fast food it has got
turn up to ten and pretend to be shocked, it’s all very energy drink
circling drain in the sink, spiraling violence of clothing moguls
clogging a garbage disposal
robotic vocals at home in the growl of appliance bowels
cleaning blood off of vowels with towels
till it’s all gone, and the grown can move on
to what separates popular song from fools still doing it wrong
watching an art form digress the longer it’s dispensed
into ears at a consumer’s expense, it all makes sense
this god or goddess opinion of novice
in mass, has long plotted to find a subconscious
lower bar nonsense, that’s loudest and drowns out the downest
most close to the ether, no features, face eaters
with weaker, more digestible meat
threshed and compressed through a speaker
for laymen believers in most recent sneakers
to call keeper and season their weekends with friends
via this artis*n*l blend of impersonal men
who dip the whole pen in pretend
rinse and begin again after a gala or ten, ah, to be trend
slowing down in the turnaround sound of dead end
nothing is k!lling me softly
it’s all a rather aggressive, stress*tipped mid*deathness
despite doing my bestest, this persists endless
like i don’t get the message, never switching its methods
makes a control freak wanna catch reckless
chase snakes for breakfast and mingle my noise in with poisons
and the wish of wood boys in the f*cked cuc, no god
public puppet show, really though, i’m ready to let it go
but stay yoked in hold choke on strong rope
i know not what i tow, ’cause beast boy is in blinders
pining for kinder riders, kicking whatever behind or
in front, ’cause sidewinders will strike this old timer
solely to find their limits, projecting a frigid image
to hidden the warmth that they live in
what if it’s all fake
and these supposed risk takers have always been safe
confused truth on the take, in the bed that they make
where they lay wide awake and stare off into sp*ce
lost look on their face, are these the breaks
no tech on the dresser, not tougher than leather
and lesser transgressors, jawing out gesture
and that emptiness festers, makes the ear, head, and chest hurt
but i digress, for i’m humoring jesters
so i might perpetually lecture
but i’m no college professor, nor soulless assessor of records
simply a poem perfector and fierce fan of rap’s nectar
for as long as i can remember
[?] is your hip hop tip top
down you are not, you just like pop
a marketing fan who only misses the plot
and you’re headed for a h*ll that [?]
being the best and being a success are not the same metric
[?] not on my watch

- doseone lyrics

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