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See Jack Run
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instrumental,if not recognized, is Ed O.G's voices
indie pop hiphop soul jazz eclectic atmosphere rjd2 aesop rock elp doseone anticon sole astronautalis controller7 odd nosdam jel
Indie, Hip Hop, eclectic, Atmosphere, Aesop Rock, Anticon, Astronautalis, Sole, Dose One, El-P, RJD2, controller7, odd nosdam, jel, soul, pop, jazz
MR LONG STORY:An emcee and producer based in Upstate, New York, who's subject matter is scattered and often perplexing, with instrumentals both self produced and gathered from various artists continentially.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Alternative Hip Hop
Charts
#11,054 in subgenre Peak #67
Charts
Peak #5,032
Author
Randy Jack
Rights
2005
Uploaded
August 02, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.9 MB • 128 kbps • 1:42
Lyrics
listen to the transmission of a man sittin in his grand am thinking of a plan and decision to position where he stands so he'll catch a chance for admission to advance command his condition Because his life quality is horrible,It's corrupts his morals so Deep that to theive is to borrow still tommorrow kills today as he thinks of a hopeless future old wounds sealed by broken sutures and his soul producer's beats arrhythmic But health care's lucritive so his heart keeps to skippin With each description of his face they give in pace the passerbys have him askin why he lives today Watchin mother provide for the family With five dollars in her pocket and a can of beans sittin in the kitchen with three spoons and a plate of rice Doesn't know how much crying he can take at night Just a victim of the system that he lives in Mixin current thoughts with the old tape playing in his living room...sit and ruminate On the old days..happy but the poverty was thick and saved him no grace No weight...he'll eat his sickness for lunch Lookin like provisions aint hit his ribs in a month Considered it once, maybe a couple times Escape echoes loudly on the reverb in his troubled rhymes They'll feed you didactics, sly tactics Try askin for advice they'll quote you chapter five Act alive...I've grown in last place They've got a dream on a string so I'll run the rat race Subtle subtext subject to ridicule Here we go, there again, back to servin kids at school Ignorant...belittle fools...misery loves company One that sells it's essence to the rich and bored, discovery Of inner conflict gives this conquest context Trek through stars in dreams hoping for progress A promise...broken, there's no sequel to the playback Left to stab the mundane, a needle in the haystack Injecting black thoughts into white noise That exists between your ears when your bored and want a hype poise No choice in the matter, I'm stuck, my eyes are never back behind my spine i want them cats to graffwrite my epitaph and at night my pen and pad, casts light on better halfs of past lives i lived to make up for the life i didn't have Self preserving...struggled,they run in the same line I was both myself, my son and my father the same time They'll feed you didactics, sly tactics Try askin for advice they'll quote you chapter five Act alive...I've grown in last place They've got a dream on a string so I'll run the rat race I always find it hard when finishin song's The beggining is strong, but current situations have me dwindling on Rekindling flames long been fizzled To burn an inner angst and transcend this monkey middle Type of shit I've done since little, literal translation serves as explanation to my jump through riddles Hoops and pivotal views are achieved without a glance or care I'm my own polar opposite, the dancing bear A chance affair with a representative of the upper echelon has me ranting expletives And then I'm headed on, with the desert in my palms Acting as an hour glass pouring out the seconds lost To my powerless position that I've never did change Said I'd make it big..what was grand was my set of mistakes And so I run run run in the rat race with fat face...trying to make it past second to last place
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