lirik lagu airing out – mathas
[verse]
my style is so d*mn convoluted
became shackled by my blueprint
that’s some brutal terms you’re glued to, fella
edit, edit, edit, edit, pass
patchwork quilting, inlay built*in
stubborn silk in craft
unstitching cheese in every bar
like edit, edit, edit, edit, nah
scr*p that one buddy
over understudied till your tongue’s all bl**dy
over complicated even when you do flex
how do cats write a throwaway and still beat chests?
how them half hit punchlines go primetime
while the rafts hit shorеlines?
any dullard making off with the door*prize, old hеads all dulling
dumbing down dead trying to claw time
wanna say something, wanna feel fulfilled
wanna k!ll some but never feel k!ll*k!ll
what a slow down egghead real shill deal
to edit, edit, edit, edit, f*ck
backsp*ce, backsp*ce, dead it
nice big word, can you actually spell it?
scrunch that one, son, shoot the hoop
wastebin pile full of half whole*truths
man, i’ve never been the kind to play ball
never ever avid on reading the playbook
grew up cobain, slow lane, sk!ll first basis
no pre*talk, no upsell baseless
yellin’ bout the table, televising the waitlist
i spent my time paintin’ my own seat through hate sh*t
when they’d heckle at the back, sn*gger at the front
on the convoluted code and resilience
salivatin’ at the mouth on its brilliance
levitatin’ on the stage with my belly out
reb*ttal brush stroke subtle oiled out
on the edit, edit, edit, edit
but right now, no time to glow picasso
take your p**p*mouth, go live in the past though
genuine leather*bound limit for *rs*hole
hot*stamp branded with a finger to f*ck off
or sit on, spin on, pick your nose with it
legitimate be into progressiveness and its dialogue
or play facilitator in degradation and side on
many of your own swords now to fall and die upon, brother
keep calling other, or set it to the past
learn to be a better lover
all the world’s ills from abuse, round the frills and the root
forced programming bruise all youth
every girl has a timeline blitzed with the times it was used
plus a dense back catalogue of all the best tunes to dance to
age like all of their fans do
we can keep dwellin’, sellin’ candy to bad tooth
it’ll fallout from the fall out, tuck your b*lls in boy
still kiss your mother with that mouth?
she smell it on your breath, fella? sorry, ma’am
better edit, edit, edit, edit, d*mn
didn’t edit that enough
time sheddin’ all the skins of the tough
came to realise there ain’t much tougher
than those in transition and those keepin’ up
all the snubbed out weirdos in spiked collars
all the same s*x hand holds who out cupboards
all the “f*ck you, no”, this is me holdin’ my ground
sit down, whole world of us
the shock jock era now done dead
dull as a white wall painted that colour again
but a soundboard of out of date petulant men
still wanna poly round the precipice, lettin’ ‘em swing
better regulate that woman hate or melee with them
most of them in real life likely nice gentlemen
with strong mothers, sisters, lovers and cousins
who sat through the jokes still supportin’ the hustle with tense muscles
who can outcast faster?
welcome reprise, demise of past masters
make a b*line and refine your harsh laughter
better be kind and in kind you’ll cast farther
on the precipice of next gen editin’
less aid and abettin’ the pained middle men
watch it play out. watch the whole spoon metal bend
old douche ruse find severance
could hear a pin drop here in the haystack
i edit dead sea scrolls til’ its one track
but old me must’ve had new me’s back
i feel for you lookin’ back trying to edit that
it’s a time where aus rap’s going black
what an odd line, course we support that
but somehow in the cracks of the core kings
still talking women and g*y to trash
this ain’t a hashtag bandwag’
my code red long coded in glow mesh
trying to be liked i’d hide out and grow tech
now i don’t feel scared to be open
tried to battle, i was fake, that’s a bloke thing
found balance in my fans and my feminine
appeared late but revered and settled in
had me questionin’ the music that i meddle in
for so long. where the girls went ghost
felt unwelcome in their home
had to hard up, bully up, boast
ten times as hard as equivalent blokes
some topic need a soft edge, some they don’t
past odes all convoluted fluffed with flow
my clothes all drippin’ with complicit, they soaked
no doubt this need to be aired out, no code
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