Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : The Known Unsoldier

We walk as two, but we'll leave one set of tortured footprints
Now here she comes...walking through the door...giving that look. Since
I roll with shook wimps...I'm shaking in my boots
Kids are behind me eating steak and soup, talking 'bout beatbreaks and loops
And I wanna' turn around...join in on the convo, but I ain't got jack to say
And it's sad to say...I'm just a poetry fag actin' gay in my black beret
I just came to this wack-ass café
To drink an ice coffee and kill a bit of time before the matinee
Why oh why did I need Cappaccino Cooler?
Now I'm trying to avoid eye contact. Lets see if I can fool her
I put a look of concentration on my face as I scribble on a napkin
Squinting my eyes, acting like I'm really serious about this mess of non-sensical pen action
A web of chicken scratch and ink blots
Is she still there? Standing awkwardly glaring? I think not
Look up....think again. Shit...now when
Is she going stop making me waste ink from my pen as I sit and pretend
I knew I should have come with a friend. I shrink and I send
Myself into meditation...and I'm on the brink of Zen
Is she buying it? I pick up my empty glass...tilt it..and drink the flem
She's STILL scoping! in fact, this chick's a 10
At least in my book...which isn't all that well read, but it's been said
Once she gets her grip on men they simply bend...backwards.
She attracts nerds, jocks, substitutes and student teachers
Who all profess their love for all of her protruding features
There's no fooling this creature, she's WAY fine
So dope, I'd have to smuggle her across state lines or else pay fines
What's holding me back is what I heard through the grape vine
She's a non-conformist freak who only comes out in the daytime

"Don't look at me." I can feel the burn of her stare on my sensitive skin
I'm anti-social and I don't know how conversational sentences begin
Plus, I'm allergic to the medicine of sexual healing
This impotence is sickening. She's sensual...appealing
Now I'm covering up my crotch region by crossing my legs
Lost in thoughts of whores in my bed. It's awful...so I'm forcing my head
into my forearms. I should...invite her for a cup of Joe
It would do more harm than good...I just know

I mean...she's no Natalie Portman, and I've been kind of holding out for her
Naturally...Now my thoughts spin...and she's on the "out" for sure
Gradually...contort my mindframe so no doubts occur
I activate testicular bravery and I shout to her

Our eyes lock.
And time stops...

She floats over to my spot...
and I say "Hi, I'm not

trying to hit on you like the way all these other guys jock
I just wanna' let you know...I'm the type of person who lies a lot

Sometimes I fart and I pick my nose like a maniac
I'd be glad to front the cost of a date with you as long as you pay me back
If we ever reach the friendship level where things like that are shared
And I know my facial hair is weird...but I've been waiting for someone like you to shave my beard

I'm usually more discreet about my insecurities, but today...I just ain't prepared."
In all honesty...this dame just stared
And I was like "Uhhh...yeah...
So ummm...heh..."
Nervous twitches were initiated and out nostrils flared
Our eyes started wandering and I was rocking in my chair

I just continued on scared that I lost her...in my upfront approach
She looked at my napkin and noticed what I wrote
...which was nothing
I said "The funny thing is...I could have used you as a muse
Wrote you sonnets in iambic pentameter and then produced
Mass amounts of unsent love letters and out-of-tune love ballads
Some valid...but most just to get you thinking of marriage
It's untrue. I don't want to create a first impression I can't live up to
I...just...wanna...

She said "Nuff said. I'm a theme park. Ride me until the sun sets."
So I jumped up on her shoulders as we exited the entrance.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : The Known Unsoldier

Fuck this sage francis faggot shit
Is this hip hop or a starbucks coffee shop
This is xaul zan, I'll show you how I do it in my neck of the woods

It's like...
You don't have to write a poem
I guess I just hate MCs who act like they're groggy
Grab the microphone
And resuscitate the life of the party
I got a right to be cocky
The girlies want me bad
Throw my blows and hockey dads give me herpes
I'll be mad
You turkeys lolly-gag, emitting the worst stench
I got your mommy gagged
And she's sitting on my workbench
Handed her a wrench
I let her work my nuts a bit
To have her thirst quenched
Yeah I let her take another sip
For the fuck of it I freaked the funk on 45s
Silly suckers think I'll sit just listening to all their jive
I'm the sort of guy to cook your family fix for dinner
I'll make your daughter cry when she wakes up
With some fingers in her
Listen to lynyrd skinner
I'll sell your pretty heart
Now let's tittyfuck while I get naked like iggy pop
She sees my mini-cock
She wants no small man
Runnin around the city block, yellin out...
It's Xaul Zan!
I sip from a tall can and take big gulps
The dodgeball champ, I'm the reason why your kid sulks
Feeding the shit out adults
Ripping the deeds to your house
And I'ma fuck you in your face till you bleed out your mouth
Smooth, not what I am
Rough....Xaul Zan
Smooth, not what I am
Rough....Xaul Zan

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : The Known Unsoldier

Who's cryin?
Who's cryin?
Who's cryin?
Shut your whining mouth.

Your girl's been spending lots of time at my place
I been helpin her remove the makeup from her fine face
Telling her to go "Au Natural"
And she trust me cause I'm your pal, thats my style
(Vrooom) I drive the Dirty Mac truck
Convincing her to drink that whole 30 rack up
I sit until I think your girly's mad drunk, then I turn the dirty mac up
What you and her, we shacked up
Well that sucks, we been getting close lately
Special time adds up so don't hate me
It's all about bologna draperies, beef sticks, and meat curtains
Monthly afternoons of bloody hatchet wounds and grease purses
I'm the salt in her pepper, the hop in her steppa
The broccoli in her mi-douth, but she don't want no chedda
(She don't want no chedda?) Naw she want somethin betta
I'd like to thank you homes you the reason why I met her
Who's cryin?

Your baby looks like me.
Who's cryin?
I'm hanging with ya moms.
Who's cryin?
Dirty Mac aroni and cheese for dinner
Who's cryin?
Shut your whining mouth
or I'll give you something to cry about.

You just won a beauty pagent.
Who's cryin?
Cuttin up a whole bunch of unions.
Who's cryin?
This ain't Dancer in the Dark.
Who's cryin?
Shut your whining mouth.
Shut your whining mouth.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : The Known Unsoldier

this is to the woman who I loved but lost.
intertwined souls of the universe got divorced.
but it wasn't forced. got single thoughts of being double crossed,
still there's no love lost.

now i can't even start this. i see no light inside the darkness.
so whatcha want, miss? don't check my pulse because i'm heartless.
you were my life support. and in a sense my defense fights the thought.
i'll try to keep this one nice and short.
our four chambers beat in unison.
I'm wanting you to listen to the dead silence in my defiance.
i used to sin and be intrigued by violence,
now as i glimpse into the past i thank God for your guidance.
alas, i give my eyes a rinse.
blink and think in retrospect...realize you need to get your respect.
i apologize as i holler cries
'cause it's you and not these college guys that keeps my knowledge wise.
you're my crutch. but now i fall cause you're someone i can't touch.
now no one wants to help me up and that's too much.
even my wisdom fell. i'm in a living hell.
throw my inner child back in the prison cell.
incarcerated hatred is causing conflict
with the free love sentencing death to the convict.
my soul is on skid row, where can this kid go?
i'm homeless, how could you notice when this whole world didn't know?
it's time i make public just how personal we got in private moments,
because lies are our opponents.
forget material or superficial stuff.
i either let you know too much or not enough.

this is to the woman who i loved but lost.
intertwined souls of the universe got divorced.
but it wasn't forced. got single thoughts
of being double crossed, still there's no love lost. There's no love lost.

I can't pretend this. The impact on my life has been tremendous.
It can't be fixed with a friendly kiss
What's endless?
Questions, pain, grief and misbelief?
I'm so faithful all I grind is my teeth.
But what I find beneath the surface has changed from priceless to worthless.
This three ring circus of clowning around is what hurts us.
My brain short circuits as my mind starts to wander
to discover another lover. I'm isolated, living somber.
She's whispering "come hither from there yonder."
I don't think i wanna. The pressure ain't gettin' lesser.
Open my dresser...it overflows with memorabilia.
Momentos of our success now symbolize my failure.
I took time to write you diaries when we couldn't speak much.
According to you that was a weak touch.
Cause "actions speak louder than words." Turn up your hearing aid.
You made this man afraid. Put the pin back in the hand grenade.
There's not much time left til I'm left with nothing but a broken promise.
While every syllable I said was spoken honest.
We expected each other to be a physic mind reader.
Don't tell me "life goes on." I need her...
Next to me...
So once again I can feel the high of ecstasy...
We tripped...walking down the aisle of destiny.
Respectful sexually, because see...I understood.
And I don't know too many people who would
have done anything to get a laugh from their better half.
I should have sensed it sooner...when you lost your sense of humor.
Now let my soul speak, I couldn't eat for a whole week.
With no sleep. The price I pay for being a control freak.
Now I'm screaming inside my pillow instead of dreaming.
I must have said "I love you" so much that it lost it's meaning.
But no one's perfect, so where's my chance to make adjustments?
It's worth it...if our romance had substance.
Because with purity we conceived marriage.
Til insecurity caused a miscarriage

this is to the woman who i loved but lost.
intertwined souls of the universe got divorced.
but it wasn't forced. got single thoughts of being double crossed...

I was in it for the long run
Now who's the weak and the strong one?
I tried to be Mr. Right, though things were wrongly done.
but ummmm...When it was time for sacrifice
Straight up, you didn't have to ask me twice.
I put off this rap device.
I wasn't ACTING nice, all my feelings they were genuine.
You got me open and I let you in.
But now you're screaming bloody murder. Used the entrance as the exit.
Now you're absent like my mind, i'm on a head trip.
You never said shit. Used then misused the entrance
And never let me get in one sentence.
Forget friends...you were my best one
Now I'm depressed, son. It didn't take long for the stress to come.
Memories be my arch nemesis
As i sit and reminisce, wondering if you remember this:
Our genesis. First experiences on old dates.
Got cold shakes and tingles, never single, we were soulmates.
That term used to hold weight but now it's temporary
And lately I've been making trips to the cemetery.
Ain't nothing evil in death, but this feels devilish.
I'd never wish this on my worst enemy.
Remember me.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

By the time the flags rotted off of their antennas,
They were questioning who the real threat is.
Big Brotherly love is the 21rst Century's plague.
No matter how bloody the glove, question evidence displayed.

Don't forget what two plus two equals.
Don't let them upgrade your math no matter what they have as proof of evil.
Remember when they went after the Jewish people?
You don't recognize that same black mask as see through?

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in it's bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted
Was a warm bed and a house that wasn't haunted.

I'd rather die for a cause than to die just because
We exhaust natural resources forced into wars,
Restoring wasteful ways, keeping other countries poor.
"Monkey see, Monkey do" I wonder what those fucking monkeys saw.

Keep rethinking the still-frames in your mind,
And guarantee they will change with time.
Your outline is pixelated with poor resolution while
Downtime is simply wasted. You were born execution style.

Head first in a trial. I'll second the motion
'Til the jury's bored to death and puts your neck in a notion.
The situation's volatile. A naked problem child
Is trying to find the right clown costume to make his father smile

So he bombs while he tries to tell jokes.
This ain't a false alarm, can't you smell the smoke?
You're in the line of fire where they buy and sell votes.
Our sense of liberty doesn't ring true, stupid, that's why the bell broke.

Trench coat Mafiosos propel rocks
At recruitment officers and rebel against cops
'Til they hurdle infinite circles in small cell blocks.
Turtle upon turtle 'til they're all shell shocked.

This so-called president got elected in a court room.
With the war efforts of pops he inherited a fortune.
We "talk, talk, talk..." so the veterans of war assume
The revolution stopped. This ain't a protest tune.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fuckin' skin decays."

You can't roam a lost land as the last existing dinosaur.
There's no escaping ass kickings in these times of war,
Replacing apples with hospitals...where doctors are hostile,
Killing two pterodactyls with one fossil.
I got you. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in it's bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted,
Was a warm bed...and house that wasn't haunted.

Thumb through novels to have your fingerprints match,
The description of criminals committing innocent acts
Of compassion for tired civilians crawling with pistols,
While we fire million dollar warning missals.

Force the issues in the back of your head where eyes roll.
Brain wash yourself out of that mind control.
Or act a fool like you're told.
But we won't see no type of justice 'til that bitch removes the blindfold.

This ain't a "Love it or leave it," it's a "Change it or lose it."
I'll never sing the anthem of a nation who never faces the music,
Chasing an ever-elusive caveman
In space ships that makes trips to the futures that are name-brand.

Faking progress...but we ain't advanced
Enough to change the posture of our ape stance?
They've got the key to the city but they prefer the break-in entry.
Duck and weave, I'm shedding light in their shadow box to make it empty.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fuckin' skin decays."

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in it's bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted
Was a warm bed...
There's nothing scarier than the human stories I tell ghosts,
Chilling accounts with my tongue frozen to bed posts.
The catharses of carcasses whenever threats are close,
Shows a heartlessness that doesn't register on stethoscopes.

Sell your hopes for a homeland security chart,
'Til your sense of self is broke and no man's pure in the heart.
Preventive detention for the folks who never left home.
Tensions have grown into a 24/7 red zone.

Scare tactics...have got you under control,
The fear factors of a color code. The uppers know
They can't hold you down without having anchors attached.
"It's all the same." Nah, balls and chains on ankles don't match.

So drag your torso back to the off road.
We may have lost the fashion battle but we ain't lost the wardrobe.
Go window shopping for your next free meal,
'cause when we start the revolution all you'll probably do is steal.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fucking skin decays."

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

Rippin' at the seams, ready to bust,
It's like one mississippi, two mississippi, rush.
Fiend smiffin' mine, at the scrimmage line
I got the drug game and game of life all intertwined
So I sit behind the sensei and study state of mind
I chase the line with loaded needles and blaze a kinda come down
Instead I chase the dragon, sun up to sun down,
With no guns, just lungs set to collapse,
Hey yo, run rocked rhymes and [?] john wrecked raps
Get back, I stalk my ex same as a Simpson
And leave her damaged goods like the financial district
Can I, kick it with gold feet, from upstate to george beach
Anonymous john, though stupid fuck, nobody knows me
Act like we're homies, I'll change the whole style up
OCD got my head in a ten-car pile up
Rock paper drop the money and pick the file up
I'm meltin' rocks for research, how to die quick
Fuck a sidekick, gettin' wrapped up in violence
Bullet to the brain, pull it sound of silence
Let's paint the room with my memory
Paint me an effigy
Shoot me up with smallpox and leprosy
Yo cousin, no need to disguise it
At night I'm drinkin vials of the west nile virus

[Chorus:]
Love (for raw rhymes and breaks)
Love (for no books and crates)
Love (for however long it takes)

[Sage]
I never chose the path of least resistance
[?] know the math and keep the distance
Forever go back to speakin' without conviction
I don't respect the craft if they couldn't know the difference
Dig this, this is a full time love affair
Part time suckers, they come unprepared
Like as if this was a mistress, for them to fuck around with
This ain't no means of income it's an outlet (outlet)
Now the counterfeit cash clans get thrown out in the trash can
Internet b-boys are doing a flash dance
Audio sound scans, audience claps hands
Funky cos I never dummied it down for the rap fans
But what's up with the forced vernacular?
Fuck gangster talk, do an AIDS walk through Africa
Boasting a Porsche but can't afford a Maxima,
Your song's full of chorus, you still think you a rapper huh?
In with the out crowd, down with the upper echelon
I'll be a handy man once my legs are gone
And I feel like hell on wheels
Seeking salvation any place that sells hot meals
Teflon steel, touch tone phones and tin cans
Recycling bins and get-rich-quick scams
I just, ripped my pants on the last fence I jumped
And look I gave the washed up just wasn't intense [?]
Trust I'm workin' on it, the girl called it quits
Heard her talkin' shit like
I ain't there, I ain't care and life ain't fair
Well guess what baby, life ain't and them's the breaks

[Chorus]

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business
(feat. Slug)

[slug]
you act smart, while i act dumb
but i know some that still lay under my thumb
see, we've got issues
we swing our fists for whatever
trying to keep the tempo down to the gristle
they like the small talk, as long as it's about you
they walk that walk, without knowing how to
i watch it all, and pretend that i'm above it
but the truth is, i see her i need it i love it

[sage francis]
i'm stuck with random stray hairs, from ex-lovers
entangled in each other's desire to stay here beyond their welcome
sharing the same common problem
blonde and brunette tightly knit
and i don't fit in with split ends
didn't have to worry about them taking me from my dividends
payed my dues spending time by myself
she was with her friends
mingling with single men
say things like hitting skins to them
thinking it's innocent but then giving me guilty grins
swimming with filthy fins
knocking boots, kicking my shins
shark infested water torture treatment get beat by the timbalands
feet is shivering walking on cold rage
roses like unrelationships, too impatient to die of old age

[slug]
yeah, remeber when you knew all the answers?
well something shook until you thought you had the questions
for all the time and effort you've invested
i find it kind of funny that you haven't learned your lesson
still guessin'
the whisper of the leaf, the rustle of the bitch
when there is no love, nothing makes you rich
so i give a shrug, and the eye muscle twitches
in replace of a hug and a lack of superstitions

[chorus]
stop thinking you don't belong here.
you are where you are 'cause you hardly move.
the music is not gonna' stop
take your eyes of the chair
'cause there's others that are under the same impressions as you
how many seats will the rock bottom accommodate?
one, too, many people who share nothing but views
misery is willing to keep company
with those who don't ever walk a mile in their own shoes

[sage francis]
so now they swap souls
they got soul, fuckin' uninspired
they drive low under the fire of sky dives
it got old and now they wanna' go higher
but cops control every single empire with tripods

[slug]
so video, did kill the radio star
now we're all so cute and drive brand new cars
we make music so you can lose your minds
we do the crimes, so you can do the times
tell me who can get busy like this man
well the truth is
damn near anyone can
so i'ma buy you some implants and a suntan
let's follow the plan and get some fat off the land
fuck this little rapper, treat me like a crook
maybe if you knew me, you wouldn't sing my hook
you'd think i was so ugly, you'd be afraid to look
but maybe if i'm lucky, i'll get a chapter in your book
doing fine thanks for asking
standing as the last man
popping bubbles and aspirin
ready, set, action, remove your dress
so we can make a mess
and hit the world with a little bit of stress

[sage francis]
let's head talk these winds until they
strengthen for getting footwork
making power moves on ceilings with head spin
it unravels the bloody ground, revealing red sin
we created hierarchy, now there are no kings in heaven
fatty acids added to the asthma medicine
breathing heavy at the gates make them have to let us in
like implying we've been trying our hardest
using everyone elses' honest way of dying as an armrest
i promise broken over dislocated kneecaps
and it's harmless jokes that provoke freak accidents
laugh at that lapdancer who strips off confidence
i live off of hope, and providence

[slug:] communication tactics are all fucked up. don't blame me i had nothing to do with this.

[slug]
you play the same damn records everyday
no wonder you believe you'd never get away
you wear the same pair of jeans you woke up in
keep the music coming, keep the movements sudden
i watched you dance every street of this city
i feel no pity
you laid the carpet
you made the target by yourself, little help
now loosen up the belt and straighten up the apartment
finish that book that you never even started
take a look at that face that hates to look back
set the oven on bake take a pen out the rack
season up your past put it in and cook that

[chorus]
stop thinking you don't belong here.
you are where you are 'cause you hardly move.
the music is not gonna' stop
take your eyes of the chair
'cause there's others that are under the same impressions as you
how many seats will the rock bottom accommodate?
one, too, many people who share nothing but views
misery is willing to keep company
with those who don't ever walk a mile in their own shoes

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

(I'm over time)
Welcome to my life (welcome)
Welcome to my life (welcome)
Welcome to my life (welcome)
Welcome to my life where everybody wants to cipher
They've never held a mic, but they swear they nice,
'cause they boys told 'em so
and surely enough they suck my dick in front of they girlfriend like
"Look, this is how you do it,
you gotta fuckin' do it slow then fast, slow then fast,
eat that shit", check-check
If this is you, you're not alone
This world's a rock of drones
Girls flock like birds
Cause they heard lots of poems from the mystery man
When my name gets spit it echoes
Straight-laced people say grace with evil smiles
I'll stick to Velcro
Let go of these claims I hold true
This is Sage, don't say I ain't told you
Fake gold tooth
Real problems with garden gnomes who talk shit
My respect's the best bargain known to the consumin' market
So pay me it
To my love-hate relationship with love-hate relationships
Makes me rich
My old lady thinks that I done did it
But I done didn't
Save my breath during dramatic movie endings hold the stub of the ticket
When credits roll I'm heading for the exit hole
Your track record is such a short shelf-life bless its soul
It's about you, all about you
That's probably why you don't really respect it or know how to
Fuck a fickle fan base, stuck a middle finger in they damn face
Does the pinnacle of my hand taste dirty like the suggestive gesture
You're best to drop out the school of hard knocks
Get murdered by stress and pressure, pressure-cooker
I leave the party with a mass amount of assed-out demo tapes to butcher
"Could ya give it a little bit of a listen, bro?"
Into do me a favor and play it on a big system though
Into give me a detailed critique of my hot shit
Sure thing boss, I'll get right on it
Oh hell no he didn't, oh yes he done did my friend
Think he was so very special among the hundred thousand
You play the fence, your flow is weak and your concepts suck
It makes no sense, slow to speak your logics fucked
You made no dents over beats that got lots of cuts
Noise you do have toys like you stocked with Tonka Trunks

You're not a lone, this world's a rock of drones
Who rock microphones and abuse generous ears
With the yeah, yeah... off the dome

You're not a lone, this world is stocked with clones
And my dear Watson's are coming to bite a style near you
You best for sure lock your homes
You best for sure lock your homes
You best for sure lock your homes
You best for sure lock your homes and beware,
Beware the garden gnomes.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

Yeah
Yo, this is Sage representin Secret Service, yo

Welcome to my world kid I've been waitin for a long time
You come with memories and leave with a free will and a strong mind
It's all fine I hope your girl came prepared
My facial hair is like a web I'm catchin knowledge in my beard
Not much is kept though, I let go into the dying hunger
I'm catching teardrops on my tongue from the crying thunder
Why am I younger than you thought I was? be patient
Soon enough you'll see through my physical into a soul that's ancient
My mental age exceeds my chronological it seems illogical
Full comprehension remains marginal
Fully phenomenal wait forever for invasion
Time, it ain't nothin but an unsolved equation
My mind is a prefound universe filled with curse words
My rhyme is a release of peace thought as I disperse verbs
Design a plan of escape into oblivion
Seriously I can't withstand the land that we're both living in
Come with me and give me support, supply assistance
We'll drive the distance and probably die in the persistence
Of breaking free from the age old constraints
Infinity continues, the life force curls fate
The energy drains from the power surges, devoured the urges
The fear is primal when the final hour emerges
Procrastinate and wait until the last minute
My ass is in it, to win, for an infinite
Number of light years as I fight fears that I felt
Since time began let my mind expand with no help
Trying to make the clock draw blood while I be spilling mine
Putting a chill in my spine, ready and willing I'm

Killing Time
Couldn't be no iller crime
Trying to make the clock draw blood while I be spilling mine
Killing Time
Before I reach my prime
Killing time, Killing time

I grab ahold of the hour hand that's got too much power man
Devouring my hopes every now and then
I try to break it down again Go from plan A through Z
Smoothly my mission turns into a murder mystery movie
Move me into a better rap protection witness program
Don't understand Time is no time to have fear for no man
Your whole clan could hold scams I got schemes that ain't been tried before
That's what you're dying for I'm hiding from the law
Ducking cops, aimlessly bucking shots
Open one day for a lucky hit and time fucking stops
Line up for props I'm out to get mine with a time-seeking tech nine
Get the job done before my deadline
My schedule's tight I'm knocking off years on my calendar
Decades of game play without a challenger
My Excalibur is getting cold and rusty can't get a soul to trust me
Time took its toll and left me old and dusty
Whew! Blow off the dust mites I just might bust mics
Put up fights throw fisticuffs and thrust strikes
With enough might to hold it off in the meantime
Cuz Time ain't nice I'm climbing for life so I don't mind the price
I have to pay day after day to make the laughter stay
And teardrops fade away
Understand the plan, scheme, scam, and plot
Remove your lips from the bottle and your hammer from the glock
I'm tryin to make the clock draw blood while I be spilling mine
Putting a chill in my spine ready and willing I'm
Killing Time I'm killing killing time
Trying to make the clock draw blood while I be spilling mine
I'm Killing Time

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

You don't want me here, now do you?
You don't want me here
You don't want me here, now do you?
You don't want me here
You don't want me here, now
You don't want me here, now
Now you don't really want me

From what I hear my extra baggage is a turn off
My carry on luggage gets smuggled in the bags under my eyes
I'm a travelin' man
Without sleep on my itenerary
I eat whatever's vegetarian
I'll live with vegan, that's my saving grace
I gave up chase in the human mating race
'Cause I can't slow down my aging face
Wrinkles become my road maps
And my one last tire is going bald
Rubbing it when checking messages
Knowing no one called
I trooop on
On the road again
Tired of what I wrote
I spend one more quarter to phone a friend
And hold a pen up to the reciever
Lettin' the ink seep into their ear
Waitin' for any intelligent speach, they've got to share
Most people can't think deep, but I don't care
I'm not concerned with them
I've learned to fend for me, my own
And I've got a lonely girlfriend back home
Who makes me feel a lot better when I return
I'm waitin' for that Dear John letter
I'm gettin' her a souvenier

You don't want me here, now do you?
You don't want me here
You don't want me here, now really?
You don't want me here
You don't want me here, now
You don't want me here, now
You don't really want me

Too much time all by myself
I've been around others I do not [?]
These personal moments feeling about as meaningless as phone sex
Don't stress me living in your condition
As still I'm that reason for that whole mess
I'm not in need of shelter
I'm just homeless
I'm a homeboy who's homely
Never known to be a homebody
Nobody knows the amount of body blows
or head shops at they got at rest stops
I gotta go let's ride hip hop shows [?]
Let me download you on my desktop
I keep it real audio
Let's talk before the phone card expired
Or let it know I'm far from wired
Why? Cause I just rocked that show hard
And I'm tired
Use a Gold Card to buy her a silver lined dark cloud
When it rains, it pours, it's hard out
But I fear that it may have dried out, pied out
I lay down to earth girls who say stop
When they realize the only reason I'm outta this world is cause I'm a space shot
These relations aren't making me feel any better
When I return I'm handing her that Dear Jane letter
I done got her a souvenier

You don't want me here
You don't want me

We're all rock stars
We do big drugs
And we have big heads
And we have big sex
Come again
[x3]

You don't want me here [x6]
Cause you don't want me
You don't want me [x5]

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

This is to the (uh-uh) intertwined souls
the hands I've been trying to hold
This is to the (uh-uh) love that I lost
and all the troubling thoughts of how I got double-crossed
and this is to the (uh-uh) divorce I was forced to settle with
and the remorse I fought off with metal fists
and this is to the (uh-uh) wet, watery kiss I left you with
on your porch as I watched your trembling lips

This is to the... memory of our early years
the first girl I shared feelings with
and it's the realest thing I'd experienced in my short existence
and I ain't afraid to admit
cause love is one of the things that doesnt come with an age limit
now does it? In fact I'ma have to say I'm more keen to feel such things
hopeless things I'd lost in a smokescreen of meaningless fucking
Touching without touching, candles in the dark
casting shadows on our parents battles, this is for the romantics at heart
It wasn't long before I held you more then my pen
when I wasn't writing songs, it was something like
"Forever and always, whenever those songs play..."
I remember empty hallways
or your image that descended from the top floor became an echo
I paid the price for those hard things, and couldn't afford to let go
From a passive debt, I'm past regret
Did you know I dreamt about you before we met?
Remembering our first kiss, and it ain't even happened yet
Recollecting your set, and I wasn't even given the chance to forget
I guess that's the magic of it
Now every rehashed subject's displaying what I wrote
on cafe napkins to the public
to get it over and done with, closure hath cometh
My shoulders are plummeted from holding these buckets
Hold your laughs till I go back to the tunnels of Paris
where I wrote half of these paragraphs... but fuck it

This is to my ten year story, in another decade
you better be better prepared for me
in the first four years, you were all ears
then for the next six, you left me for the next exit
with depth to my message
So that began my affair with the world abroad
Behind the curtain with the other hurtful girls I explored
Until I became the monster, turning to the words that I record
Part of me, if you heard it all before
"I didn't shake you to hurt you"
when you landed on the floor
In a room of naked virtues
I closed my eyes to cancel what I saw
Your hand made the first move to the handle of the drawer
where the frail girl couldn't think to live
"I didn't shake you to hurt you"
I never planned it before
I can't shake off your perfume, can't wash my hands no more
and I'm breaking my curfew, but I can't walk
I'm standing at the door, I hear the wailing of a little kid
...and the failure of innocence
His compromise eyeing the side of the kitchen sink
What'you think, I just let you cut you, cut me-- cut the bullshit
Damn, I love the hugs enough to tolerate
the way we made each other crazy, making it so tough to operate
Productively, my self esteem didn't help when I felt ugly
and I figured that's the reason why you wouldn't trust me
My ego does bleed, I shouldn't have let you test it
and let your arms free to follow up with your domestic slip up
Love is a battlefield so lick your shots quick
while I lick my wounds and then resume as an obvious target
Infatuations with the past protect my Purple Heart with
a faded picture I had in my shirt pocket
I'm going out with a bang..
in a blaze of glory holes, the anti-hero
I don't care how many ways the story's told
Be careful when these doolies play like drums
and be careful what you say, because my uzi weighs a tongue..

This is to the sleepless evenings that I spent next to grave stones
Hoping someone from beyond would grab my arm and take me home
I hadn't accepted I'd have to make it alone
after feeding everything I had into a payphone
and this is to the rain..
I felt like it was made of spit
My parade was an unbreakable chain of Gabe's trumpets
Save the buckets even though they weighed down my walking
You don't know the height of the steak you place your fork in
You look old (that's what you said)
I feel old (that's what I said)
I been through a lot since you been gone, dead, born again
torn to shreads over girls who were porcelain
the cry-baby dolls, when we were allowed to talk again
I stopped accepting break-up calls (that ring true)
I hate the way I fall for everything you do
Our fate is flawed, that's why I make these break-up songs to sing to you
Music is my only psychiatric drug
And you're a pill in human form I'd like to hide under my tongue
Kiss the foot that couldn't fit into the slipper of my mouth
The denizen in your house begging for the benifit of your doubts
When I got kicked out, I played the faithful puppy dog
Loyal to the love alost, sitting at your fucking door in utter disbelief
I sucked all of the skin off of my teeth
you pulled away, you let me choke on your invisible leash
You can find me hiding these screams behind my eyelids
She blinded me (she blinded me) with science..
So my air-mail lips blew her a fairwell kiss
Slinking over the sink, where all the hair gel drips
Stairwells dip deep into her mouth where I found a cycle
and ever since then, I've been on a downward spiral
this round is final, it's time to recover
because it's a porch that some dogs choose to die under
the first song was a breakdown, I apologize in round two
this version of certain, this shit ain't even about you
It's the threewrite..

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

I'm a construct of your world, deep-rooted, polluted and tortured
Abused and altered, I just caught you eves dropping
Adam's rising to pluck the fruit from off the branch
reaching out to touch your inner-drives
Cut me open and count the rings inside to see how long I've been alive
Containing forms of records about the types of storms I've weathered
Leave a stump for kids to carve initials as long as I'm remembered
But lessons go forgotten plus you don't believe a thing
Listening to the whispering of my leaves in the wind
When the breezes begin you're just concerned with flying kites
Till I tangle up your child's play and get you climbing heights
Still reluctant to hear me out admiring the sites
You have no idea what it was like being nailed to Christ
You're swinging from the twigs and limbs that used to hang your siblings
Have respect you selfish self-centered sack of man-made buildings
I was the original pinnacle but now I'm nothing to you but kindling
Tickling my inhibitions of naturally attracting children
Who have a funny idea of what forever is
I witnessed the first time lips kissed with stripped innocence
Not too long after that was I supplying shade
For a man caressing silverbacks trying to get laid
Monkeying around and now they're all dying of A. I. D. S
Government guerilla tactics? That's a farce, I bring the plagues
Cancer? That's just icing on the cake, I nurse and feed ya
Cause you drained me of my sap with taps of perverse procedure
I hold your family background right down to the first amoeba
Watched you grow from just crustacean to a land mammal, it hurts to leave ya
But I've had enough, and it'll be very relieving
Just who do you think supplies the air you're breathing?
Humongous oxygen tanks? As if it's all free
Constantly wondering where your dogs are at?
They're barking up the wrong tree
Wanting proof of identification but I existed before fingerprints
Cognitive dissonance... I hear chainsaws in the distance
If a tree falls in the forest and nobody's there to hear it
Does it make a sound? I'll go down quietly but you're feel it
Still these sick like thoughts keep eating away at my inside
Till I'm nothing but hollowed out hide..
The dead tree's still standing, here comes the hunting-ax of lumberjacks
So I attract like lightning when the thunder cracks, I'm under attack
So I may finally... stop... stumble... relax...

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business
(feat. Slug and Brother Ali)

Y'all know good and goddamn well
You're fucking with a brother who ain't never had his hand held
And never seemed passed out
Rolling baby strollers over broken floating bottles
In a shredded forest with a dying shred of hope inside you

For this respect, I sweated and bled
And have yet to be discredited by what a critic ever said
We're unaware of his racial make up
We know he's an albino but can't science the face up
Never question what I am

G O D knows if you don't, you can never understand
So you need only know that I'm unrelenting
Nothing breaking, never ending, seldom bending
Cast shadows like light descending

Must not discuss divorce with the case still pending
But I got some shit to tell you on my next record
For now, we and Sage Francis connected and did

Damage, uh
Damage, uh

Wrote this one a couple days after Christmas
Hope is one struggled game thats persistent
0 plus 1 2, for Self, no assistance
Pistol clear before this new year existed

Somebody get the door, fuck it, let 'em snore
It's all been said before, buried in a metaphor
Lucy is Hip Hop, and Jacob's a prince
Sean is an old man, and Slug is a PIMP now

They say I'm buggin' because of the way I love 'em
Nervous 'cause I know I'll never make the perfect husband
What, they treat me like LL for art fucks
They hang out and argue about my clown thought and snort rocks

From the twin cities, call it the deuce
Skinny grizzly bear alcoholic on the loose
Sing with me, show your love, give me proof
Flip the switch to damage and make this planet move

Never intended on making records that seemed too slick
Peeps move quick from cheap music to G-UNIT
Weak bullshit pulls chicks, but Joe Beats flosses every day

Ain't he ain't talkin' 'bout my gold teeth
My hobo teeth is no sleep for seeking soulmates
Getting cold feet, if my queen don't awake
My feeble bones break, spines curve
(Now I'm serious)

People don't take time to learn outside the pyramids
What the dilly is? I'm unsure, but so sin surr
Get your hurr did, that ain't a perm, yo, that's a temporary
That ain't a wormhole, that's a cemetary where they bury the lies

I'm lampin', I'm cold, cold lampin' out in the snow, campin'
Cuttin' wires so your phone can't ring
You don't know a damn thing after your city gets undertaken
Pass me a sissy so sucka I'll slay him

Damage, uh, damage, uh
Dances, famine
Damper, dancer, Francis
Hah, MF Doom on the beat

Non Prophets, Slug and Ali
Together at last, like cocks and cunts
Yeah, let's fuck it up, clip that beat

You know, we're pretty much humanous
And that's where we'd like to work from
From that vantage point

Exactly and you know Non Prophets is spelled
Like you know, like P O R P H E T like meaning
Like Non Prophets, almost like a pun in the word

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

Pictures of fields without fences...
Shangri La...
and Jesus, Jesus in a bowl of germs

(don't get scared dad...)

after all god loves this whole of worms, but hates common black sheep who refuse to follow the shepherd. Who heard little lambs into slaughter? LISTEN - to the silence of the man's-LIFE-is a serial killer far
too complex to expose any logical pattern, below saturn and mars there are stars dominating the tunnel vision of cast obstruction and jesus might have been a biological weapon of mass destruction,
specifically designed to wipe out millions with vanity and pride, lab engineered and born, advanced chemistry in a bowl of germs like hybrid corn, complete with hidden agenda beneath the surface lurking and smirking under a crown of thorns.

The crucifixion was a hoax, a cruel joke shop poison rose bud, emanating smoke screen and only begotten son soap suds,
Come and Wash Your Sins Away!, said the spider to the flying rows of holy roman hope bugs.
Let's see if we can give noah's old flood a run for it's money with the first drop of cold blood from the cross began a damned birth. the contamination spread without aids hospital orderly's or cancer sticks, and stone moving angels, but no bones for artifacts or relics, just a vacant hole on easter sunday and a note about his rising soul, sounds pretty fishy; stand atop the mount and feed me loaves of bullshit our last meal was a feast at a table headed by a lupine figure hiding in fleece.
no one ever thought to check jesus for the sign of the beast, no one ever lifted his hair and looked beneath, it was there on his neck, no one cared, or was even looking for proof.
what, you didn't expect joe and mare' to volunteer the truth, and judas did not hang from his own noose,
it was just made to look that way, Jesus Christ! he was a planned device, schizophrenic double edge sword; prophet and antichrist;
good but ultimately evil, with multiple people within shouting orders. leading the flock over the border and through the woods into the land of honey milk and slaughter,
selling water for wine in between black out gorges on swine, eventually leading up to crusaders with torches in line, all the way to Jerusalem from north of the Rhine,
infected by motives that were all but divine, and the same virus has still got the sons and daughters of time on life support waiting for orders to die.
they struggle to stay afloat while their saviour keeps walking on by, on top of the water kicking salt in their eyes.
it's all in the mind state, they're all still alive but planning their own wake, waiting for the wave of an apocalypse that already came to break;
FUCK ARMEGEDDON, life is heaven and hell, the only fate is what we make the only fate is what we make fate is what we make, fate is what we make, we make fate.

your essence was conceived and born to breathe in pictures of fields without fences, it remains relatively unconcerned with this non existent god forsaken whole of worms; natural selection has you headed for shangri-la, don't settle for jesus in a bowl of germs, don't settle for allah, amon-ra, vishnu, or abraham in a bowl of germs. don't settle for anything less than universal respect for every living creature that has breath in it's lungs and chest regardless of race, sex, preference, or whatever the fuck it says in ancient text.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

Lights flicker on the frame of a light sleeper...watching sports,
In a stained wife beater and boxer shorts.
Night creeps in-between the uneven slides of venetian blinds
And it sees signs of struggle.

He resides in a jungle where the weeds dry and tumble
Every time he deserts love and leaves behind his troubles.
This time it seems he's finally humbled;
Defeated by the feline he's been trying to subdue, beaten while they cuddle.

Now subtle differences got him running from images.
Weird as it is, circus mirrors are a serious fear of his.
He stays a safe distance from the scary kid,
His beard is big and he wears a wig in public appearances.

Here he is...half alive in the flesh suit,
Curious and appetizer by the fresh fruit,
Served on a dish at his nightly help group.
Who dreamt of catching better Z's? Most people would've slept through it.

If you ain't been through it, then you don't know the way the days
Just waste away. A change of pace needs to take place
I play with razor blades and I shake
Until I shave my face and the break....

Of day lights flicker on the frame of a light sleeper...watching sports,
In a stained wife beater and boxer shorts.
Sun rays creep in-between the uneven slides of venetian blinds
And it sees signs of struggle.

He hides a bundle of demons behind the stubble.
Sleep dehydrates him 'til the dreams dry and crumble.
Bleeding from his eyes, the scene of the crime's a puddle,
Where he cries Uncle...and doesn't realize he's lovable.

Lover girl doesn't purr because she sees
Something of hers stuck in a world that needs to be freed.
This cat's got tongues tied 'til she leaves,
A curiosity that could kill an entire species.

"See these fingers of mine?" Yes.
"It's time to see if one of them fits the dark ring around your eyes," She says.
So she sends me to a guy who signs permission slips.
And if his finger fits...

He's going to poke inside to see what's alive.
So I went to where she sent me only to find a blind man
With worn down fingertips.
And his neck was a library full of razor bumbs.
He placed a cup on a tabled labeled "Talk to Me"
And he snuck a smile passed the customs of his scruffy face.
He just stared in my general direction and said...

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sickly Business

Women in Pakistan cover their faces if women and the husbands don't drink and gamble.
The prettiest girl in Charlestown gets beat up if the Celtics lose,
this year they made the playoffs and her jaw got a chance to heal.
Ever since I moved to Bushwick, I work graveyard and two things keep me up during the day.
I sleep through bullets cause I live on the second floor, but the ice cream truck plays nursery rhymes of demons, movin' around the block real slow while everybody cheers like its the special olympics.
Water baloons are called air conditioners, the forth of July is celebrated with pistols, you don't pledge allegiance and read the wall street journal. The post has pictures of trust fund Arabs on wanted posters.

Killing Muslims is like beatin' up your girlfriend, it brings working people together.
My generation was lazy, Killing Iraqis and training Afghanis to shoot Russians, thats like beatin' up your girlfriend in front of the children.
Think somebody's not gonna grow up and hit you back? Stupid.
A prophet's a bloody mary with cheap vodka that makes the hangover worse.
War is God's method of teaching American geography.
Jesus is tired of telling Arabs that they are dying for the sins of his followers.

I work the night shift protecting pictures of other people's children getting paid for doing nothing because I understand how the system works!
Supervisors away, I win, clock out with the sun, the ice cream man will burn!
Nazis scraped the ovens to make soap and candles. Australians carved ash trays with aborigine's craniums but killing Muslims is pointless because gas is still expensive!

Wether a solider fucks a cunt or a rectum its a dead Arab on the other end of the rifle.
Life goes on if a genocide isn't yours.
Automatic weapons are built in Michigan so Palestinians can be target practice for half a century.
I'm a bad influence, cause I can't stand college students for peace.
Put the fear of God in the chosen people, see thats my tax money your firing.
The only tragedy of the 21st century is that Jews have not reached the status of being white, even on stolen land!
Suicide bombings are abstract if you've got something to live for its the poorest and useless Hamas Jihad and Al Qaeda wearing the belts of C4 like a Jim Jones kiss.

Because
all
God's
children
have
faith.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

People seem to be real curious
what it's like living the life
of an underground super star.

I awake around eleven or so with a kitten in my face.
And that's not innuendo.
I shake the cobwebs out my head.
Live alone so I don't bother making the bed.
I change sheets once every other week.
Making four cups of coffee before I brush my teeth.
Should I shower? Hell no.
Use a little baby powder to cover the smell though.
Check the cell phone. Ring out! Ring out!
To hell with these text messages from Twitter.
Gonna block QuestLove. I ain't hating his game.
I'm just not ready to play.
Simple and plain. Everything's strange.

Strange. Fame. Makes a man take things over.
Things are getting
Strange. Fame. Lets him loose, hard to swallow.
The business is
Strange. Fame. Puts you there where things are hollow.
Even homies get
Strange. Fame. Strange, baby!

My oven is busted.
The bathroom sink's in the fritz.
And my dryer's broken so my clothes stink.
The fridge stopped workin (Workin!) and it ruined my food.
We beat the shit out of it and put the video on YouTube.
People made comments like:
"Is this what people do because it's boring in Providence?"
No. It's what I do because I'm excited.
And I don't have time to refute your writings.
Click the thumb-down image.
Go get out my business.
I ain't paying for 1000 listens.
I ain't clearin no sample for this song.
I just give it away.
David Bowie ain't my homie.
Is that strange?

Strange. Fame. Makes a man take things over.
This industry's
Strange. Fame. Lets him loose, hard to swallow.
The lawyers get
Strange. Fame. Puts you there where things are hollow.
Even my fans get
Strange. Fame. Fame. Fame. Fame. Fame. Fame.

Don't give yourself to these unnatural men.
Machine men with machine minds and machine hearts.
You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men.

I got the world at my fingertips
but me an my girl got some shit to fix.
We battle on Facebook, updating the status.
When I was on Friendster my friend said
MySpace was fuckin full of bigots.
Now they talk about Widgets.
Wikipedia won't even let me correct the false tidbits
of info on my own bio page.
Like I don't know my name.
Like I'm the ripe old age of fiddy-somethin.
So be it.
Download my dick!
Don't give me nothin. I don't need it.
Cause the more that I get, the more people complain
that they should have shit, like I have shit.
That shit's strange.

Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame. Fame. Fame. Fame.
You gotta hope for the best and expect the worse.
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
This one is free. Next time better empty your purse.
Got kids to feed. in the future..
..personal life..
..total stupidity that I have to deal with
on a day to day basis..

Greed has poisoned men's souls.
Has barricaded the world with hate.
Has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.
Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want.
Our knowledge has made us cynical.
Our cleverness, hard and unkind.
We think too much and feel too little.
Don't give yourselves to brutes.
Men who despise you, enslave you, who regiment your lives.
Tell you what to do, what to think, or what to feel.
(What's your name?)
Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world.
Millions of despairing men, women and little children,
victims of the system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people.
To those that can hear me I say do not despair.
The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed.
The bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress.

[This track includes samples from the song "Fame" by David Bowie and from the movie: "The Great Dictator" starring Charles Chaplin.]

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

S-A-G-E Bastard!
S-A-G-E Kiss my ass.
S-A-G-E Aww wild mother fucker.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

You know, it's been like...20 years I've been doing this shit. Came up with a lot of people. A few of which fell the fuck off. So I'd like to dedicate this to y'all...

pieces of shit who disappear when the campaign fades.
Got a nice little record but you can't play on stage.
I anti-promote you so I can't say your names.
you're crying about money with your brand name shades
to tint out the window to your bland brain waves.
You couldn't see us move past the champagne phase.
I done changed the game while your fans stayed the same
and say, "Shoot. I'm looking for a man named Sage."

Don't sweat the petty things. Don't pet the sweaty things.
And don't forget to hit the deck when the machete swings.
It's a rage that engages when the celly rings.
You don't gotta interrupt my life just to tell me things.
I don't get along with self-help book worms.
Had a ring of 'em around me and they all took turns
with looks of concern while taking what they could get.
Some parasitic, bloated tick. opportunistic bullshit.
My little one-trick pony...
you had a good run while I was patting your ass but after that
all anyone could say is how you're so down to earth.
So is dog shit. Both are getting left in the dirt.

It ain't about the lie, it's how you tell me it.
I'll slap this hatchet in your back before we bury it. Then spit out your cherry pit.
Your petty shit goes tits up. I'm like, "Man, whateva."
You're all like, "What's your damage, Heather?"
Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Just make sure
you lube up with salt solution, stupid, I'm a take it raw.
There's canker sores on the lip service you give me.
Your facial flaws are gettin' all nervous and shifty.
Sissy. That's an easy tell.
Consider the elbow grease that I put in when you get jealous of what you see me sell.
How'd you fit those big dollar signs inside your little beady eyes
without the use of photoshop or CGI?
I've got a special effect...it's called hard work.
I write my own checks...that's just one of my job's perks.
You got burnt but you keep playing with matchsticks.
You keep falling off like weak refrigerator magnets.
Lock and load. Cock and aim.
I've got a razor tongue but it's like a taser gun when I make shocking claims.
And I don't just talk some game...
Cuz I'm a commentator and a player and a coach who can fan the flames.
Fuck a stand off, I'll chop your hands off.
And shove 'em down your throat until you choke and you can't cough.
Dis me in your city if you need to...but when I come through...
"Am I glad to see you!"

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

It's the b-boy, its the MC, they cant read the grafitti
It's the b-boy, it's the MJ, its the VJ they cant read the grafitti on the walls

[Chorus:]
Throw away my tools, scrape with my hands make as much noise as I can banging on sand
I used to play in a band but those people are gone
Now the turntable got a needle in it's arm

I'm in a van flying without parachutes, wifey didn't plan to have marriage disputes
Everytime I stand at the door to say goodbye, its like shes watching her man go to die.
I packed in a rush but it was too fast for us, handed me an ultimatum as i grabbed all my stuff
Put a pillow in my briefcase I come with no rebates a gaurantee of return when i leave state
I make mix tapes, but they're cd-r's
Diggin in crates, do you see these scars?
They're from big breaks that i stripped from a song, now the turntable got a needle in its arm

Flame on like burnin', i'm burnin', i'm burnin', i'm burnin' but wait...

I fill up the milk crates, collect the LP's
Eric B laughin' at me c-c-check out my melody
DJ Polo doin' pawn, terminator X on an ostrich farm
Jam master J is gone and that's a shame
They say its better to burn out quick than faddddeee
I toured the states with a guy named CR, he had nothin but a tube of toothpaste and guitar
He was a soul brother, a baby mama back at home brother
A good reminder what it is to rock and roll brother.
Mashed potatoes every meal and if it ain't served outa greasy spoon he don't deal
Real as it gets with a puff that don't quit put him at a piano and he smokes it
A blues man, to old to go back to school man, still grinding it out but he already payed his dues man
I could see it in his face when he said Sage brother I gotta get out of this place
Embarassed, he knocked me off balance truth of the matter is you can't live off raw talent
Perhaps you could at one point but those days seem gone
Now the turntable got a needle in its arm.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

Birds and the bees
Nerds and mp3s
Surfing the seas of watermarked promo cds that leaked
Like best kept secrets ain't worth art thats physical
Hardcopy material given a proper burial
Long live the satisfaction that songs give
Records in my attic got scratched and haunted
Radio stations that are captured on my tape recorder
A long time listener, first time caller
Hung up for the last time
Nervous and out of breath
My writing had no purpose it was murder and lots of death
Turned to god and turned godless
The audience beneath the surface wanted death
It kept me honest
Truth be told never made a deal with satan
I turned my loose leaf gold
Got a carton full of songs sitting on the counter of a store
Shut them down now
Only looseys sold
I said

What the hell we gonna do now?
How many units can we move now?
They wanna make money money
But there's a limit when you keep taking honey from the house of bees

A lot of shit is out of tune since the weather started changing
The flowers are confused don't know when they're pollinating
They bloom before the frost get caught depopulation
Ripple effect the systems connect the scene started changing
Bees stop behaving in a way that made sense
Queens disrespected while the babies raid the nest
No defense the record store is under attack
The dj's a complete hack but none of y'all beeswax
The colony collapse when the label got sued
For the pollen on the track now its losing value
The music press the publicist deluded bad review
They plundered and ask but nothing but the hunger to consume
Mass produce mass appeal manufacture junk products
Static loops lack the real so the fans would rather shoplift
Sold the whole thing and forgot what it was
Now you got no sting and you're trying to start a buzz
Like

What we gonna do now?
How many units can we move now?
They wanna make money money
But there's a limit when you
Keep taking honey from the house of bees

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

Everybody want Kevin but nobody want fed.
I played cemetaries, been heckled by the dead.
But Jeckel never Hyde. Every rhyme that I said
was part man, part wolf. Fight. Never fled.

Tighten up the rents on little leather boots.
The type to make advances but then never recruits.
Loosing to the man while the independent groups
got a bullet proof plan: "don't meddle with the suits".

My peddle got the loops. My chamber got the echo.
Invested way too much in this here anger to let go.
My vicious cycle is a calm steady tempo.
I always extinguish birthday candles with a death blow.

Dim mark. Hand touch of the faithful.
Secrets never leak. Keep the Mescalito playful.
Devil on my shoulder saying "I don't need no angel".
Other shoulder's cold silence hanging from a halo.

It's the Jaw of Steel.

Swing low sweet chariot of fire.
Let me know if you need any help carrying it higher.
Had it up to here with this valley of desire,
being fearful of a god, and married to a liar.

Now daddy's tired of the war that he feels.
Mommy's defenseless with a cross on her shield.
The golden glove champ born in a field,
backed into a corner, it's the Jaw of Steel.

Rewind, Selector. Run that tape backwards.
Reverse the curse and become radioactive.
It takes practice just excepting these straight jackets
in a land full of snakes without no Saint Patricks.

My Irish temper is a curse that is a blessing.
A sign that I'm alive although at first it gets upsetting.
A burst of adrenaline that then turns to depression...
And I only go to church for a funeral or wedding.

Sometimes I can't tell one from the other.
The type of place where you could loose a best friend or a lover.
A bunch of people crying, keepin stuff under the cover.
Confess all your sins, mother fucker.

Come down, Selector. Boom! Bye bye to the emperor.
Would you die? Die for his leather?
Rely on the weather. They manipulate it with machines.
Parade around naked til you freeze.

Tornado chase her. Drink with your rival.
Listen to the wind get caught in the spin cycle.
Worship the idol American psycho.
Portrait of a boxer trading in his golden gloves for a rifle.

Chik-chik a-chik cha-chin check.
Chik-chik chik-chik cha-chin check.
Chik-chik chik-chik cha-chin check.
Chik-chik chik-chik cha-chin check.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

They wanna corrupt me. They tried to corrupt me.
This ain't no Swan Song. This is for the ugly ducklings of my country.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE HERE!
'psst psst; conspiracy to riot.'

Peep the game, dummy. You can't keep the reign from me.
It's us who put in the over time, they who make the money.
Snickering at trickle down economy.
We got nickled and dimed? It's more like highway robbery.
Drive in the fast lane. Eyes on the gas gauge.
Listen to neo-cons cry about black rage.
It doesn't stop there.
They're the blowhards. They puff out their chest. They're full of hot air.
Providing entertainment for the status quo.
Then once every 4 years they pander to the black vote.
Oh, religion ain't a tool of control?
Then why they pull the God card once they're losing in the polls?
Foolish. I know. We're victims of circumstance.
It ain't coincidence we're children of the worker ants.
While those in power ain't never owned a pair of dirty pants
But they're quick to kill your health insurance plans.
The rich cheat death with their cheap survival.
They found more than one way to beat the Bible.
Street disciple... my beats are trifle mega.
Don't repeat the cycle, just live your life better.
I'm gonna defeat my rival. That's why I'm writing this letter
to let em know we ain't givin' up the fight ever.

'psst psst; conspiracy to riot'

They wanna corrupt me. They tried to corrupt me.
This ain't no Swan Song. This is for the ugly ducklings of my country.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE HERE!
'psst psst; conspiracy to riot.'

Oh yeah; I've got a weapon of mass destruction';
Parked in the back and it's a vessel of gas consumption.
Rebels of rap production never adapted to nothing.
Imagine my laugh whenever ask me for something.
Like I ain't gave it my all.
You came fashionably late to the headbanger's ball.
After the mob scene lost steam,
And after we spilled pig's blood on the prom queen.
I've been told with old age comes wisdom,
But I've found with old age comes old age.
We're stuck in our old ways like everything was done much better
in some forgotten era. Thumb sucking America.
I can't begin to name the ways I'd pin the blame
on an administration acting inhumane.
If it's killing season let's start within.
When the hunter becomes the hunted they outlaw hunting (ain't that something.)
Confiscate the ammunition!
Cuz there's a wolf in sheep's skin. A pit bull with lipstick.
A pig in a blanket. Some lame duck President
privatizing profit and socializing debt.
Collapsed credit. Journalists get arrested.
Watch the Blackwater operatives go domestic.
Oh, that's a problem? Well don't agonize.
Smoke 'em if you got 'em. A whole pack of lies.
Summer spring and autumn. Now bring the wintertime.
I don't protest snow. I shovel it with picket signs.

'psst psst; conspiracy to riot'

They wanna corrupt me. They tried to corrupt me.
This ain't no Swan Song. This is for the ugly ducklings of my country.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE HERE!


We have the right to assembly and it's the duty of the patriot
to protect his country from the government.
But when we try it; but when we try it;
But when we try it;
it's CONSPIRACY TO RIOT!

Peace rally with my friends. Conspiracy to riot.
When we have no defense. Conspiracy to riot.
Rubber bullets to our heads. Conspiracy to riot.
Conspiracy to riot. Conspiracy to riot.

When we find voter fraud. Conspiracy to riot.
When we defy overlords. Conspiracy to riot.
When we finally pull the cord. Conspiracy to riot.
Conspiracy to riot. Conspiracy to riot.

'Til the truth is revealed. Conspiracy to riot.
We ain't choosing to kneel. Conspiracy to riot.
Let me be the human shield. Conspiracy to riot.
Conspiracy to riot. Conspiracy to riot.

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

No tricks
No tricks

It's just a flashback-

Now I can't even think back
When I reminisce on my own past I cringe
It gets under my skin like a syringe.
I binge on food for thought.
Avoiding memory lane on my way home
Get lost and have to look for a pay phone
It's so strange
I've got no change
I could have sworn I did when I left
My breath gets heavy with every theft
Y'all didn't round my childhood [?]
If I could have smiled I would
Try to keep them to a minimum
But one got cracked while I was killing 'em
Back to the present here and now in modern times
When Satan's got me signing dotted lines
I pick up the phone and call
People in my own hometown collect
And tell them things change, but they just won't accept
That's no surprise; it's so ironic me having to ask them for directions
But I just got dead air, cut lines and bad connections
People who would help
Change their number to unlisted
411 info left me unassisted
Wickedly twisted happenings
Is it coincidence?
I choose to think so.
Deep in thought my eyes blink slow
Pictures appear like slideshows
Cause my mind knows
Each and every minute detail
Total recall is leaving me pale
Sick to my stomach
Nauseous
Forces of nature bring my homing instinct
It stinks
It's so distinct.
Now let me think a minute.
Huh, this is the much traveled trail from my past
No one unbeaten path
And funny memories are now making me laugh

Just a flash back kid, it's just a flashback
I'm getting laughed at mental attack, mental attack

I should design forts
To pro-tect my mind
From these time warps
'Cause I'm off course
Begin to rethink my final thoughts
Philosophies
My personal creations face conflict
You're slipping
By following my footsteps
Cause I'm slick
Now I stand alone in this ghost town
My clothes make the most sound
Upside down smiles
Grin while folks frown
I feel my Sacred
Heart get filled with hatred
Ancient rituals of a teary eyed child
with nothing fake kid
the flash backs of my past acts
Are numerous
Inside the uterus
Other kinds haven't been so humorous

My laugh lines are faked for the last time
I'm past my prime
Climaxing again is a task of mine
I'm homeward bound; break out the map and atlas
I ask gas station attendants kid and they act pissed
I'm black listed
For not staying true to white lies
I fight guys in darkness
Heartless until the night dies.
And Then I shed some light on what's the matter
Reflections in the looking glass self scatter
When the hard stairs made it shatter
7 years back luck?
That ain't nothing new !
I'm searching for something true
But most my friends are fronting too.
What's up with you?
Only once you catch amnesia
Same old procedure
Valuable times lost at leisure
Plus I broke my compass
The needle always points backwards
There's no communications
Whack herbs
That cost me black words
Impossible
Facial expressions in sign language
Cause your mind your mind anguish
Misinterpretations are dangerous
No one knows who the stranger is
But still yet know my face is vaguely familiar,
Thinking back wouldn't kill you would it?
Or would it?
I can't catch no one's attention
Even Ignored by the lord
my mind sided dimensions

It's just a flashback kid, it's just a flashback
I'm getting laughed at mental attack; mental attack…

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : FRANCIS, SAGE
Album : Sick Of Wasting

Anybody's who's been on tour...
(I like the way you say "tour".)
...sharing a van with a bunch of fools
you know there's always one important question:

Who Farted? Was is Captain Kirk?
Did it smell even worse than his acting work?

Who Farted? Was it Gary Coleman?
Is he always unhappy because of his crappy colon?

Who Farted? Was it Will Smith?
Did you check his underwear? They say he leaves Fresh Prints.

Who Farted? Was it Alyssa Milano?
She said to think outside the box, so I pissed in her taco.

Who Farted? Was it Jar-Jar Binks?
Is he the reason why the new Star Wars stinks?

Who Farted? Was it Salma Hayeck?
Did it smell just like shit? Well, I like it.

[chorus]

Who Farted? Was it Barack Obama?
Is Volcano Joe the Plumber dropping mini chocolate bombs huh?

Who Farted? Was it McGruff the Crime Dog?
Did he warn the kids about his big puffy slime log?

Who Farted? Johnny Cash, is that who farted?
When his ass passed gas was it dearly departed?

Who Farted? Was it Natalie Portman?
If I made whoopee to her cushion we'd have flatulent offspring.

[chorus]

Who Farted? Was it David Blaine?
Did the camera angle obscure abrasive stains?

Who Farted? Was it Bob Dylan?
The answer my friend, is blowing in the wind.

Who Farted? Was it Mos Def on Bill Maher?
Stick it where the sun don't shine.
You know, the black star.

Who Farted? Was it Ashcroft
smelling like a shitty version of Eminem?
Well then?

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : BLIND PILOT
Album : We Are The Tide

In shadow, in dark
In cold wind, open up your heart
'Cause time brushes your face
And one loved them, every new shape
One loved them for what could not get left behind
Or washed away

Some were seasons, some just days
I'm bringing nothing with me I mean to save
This faint sweetness, this wick of light
This white apple, full of bites

A white apple, full of what has slipped away from me
Full of flesh, sweet as memory
Full of hope, grown from a fallen tree
Full of a life, I can't just let myself believe

So if I haunt you, if I do
If my shadow leans up on you too
No good intentions or ways I talk
I'll just leave a light lit for you to walk
I'll leave a light lit for you to walk

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : EMELI SANDÉ
Album : Our Version Of Events

[Verse 1:]
Didn't see it coming
No kind of warning
I can't work out what I've done wrong
His clothes are missing
But his keys are still here
Please somebody tell me whats going on

[Chorus:]
My baby's got a suitcase
He's telling me its too late
But don't nobody, please don't ask me why
'Cause all I did was love him
But I can't stop him walking
My baby's got a suitcase but please don't ask me why

[Verse 2:]
What changed so quickly?
Answer me!
If you must kill me then please, please tell me why
He said "Don't touch me, Get out the way"
Will someone tell me what's going on tonight

[Chorus:]
My baby's got a suitcase
He's telling me its too late
But don't nobody, please don't ask me why
'Cause all I did was love him
But I can't stop him walking
My baby's got a suitcase but please don't ask me why

[Bridge:]
I cant stop my heart leaving through the door
I cant unpack my heart 'cause he won't look at me anymore

[Chorus:]
My baby's got a suitcase
He's telling me its too late
But don't nobody, please don't ask me why
'Cause all I did was love him
But I can't stop him walking
My baby's got a suitcase but please don't ask me why

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : EMELI SANDÉ
Album : Our Version Of Events

[Verse 1:]
When you need to smile
But you can't afford it
Go on point it out
I'm gonna steal it
When the floor is more familiar than the ceiling
I will break in late at night
Shake up how you're feeling

[Chorus:]
I'll never stop
Breaking the law for you
I'll never stop
Helping to pull you through
Whatever it takes ti get what you need
Ignore the alarm
Ignore the police
I'll never stop
Breaking the law for you

[Verse 2:]
When you're taking steps
But need to go faster
We can speed through streets
So the shadows can't catch ya
When the corridors and all the stairs are making you tired
I will come for you
Set the building on fire

[Chorus:]
I'll never stop
Breaking the law for you
I'll never stop
Helping to pull you through
Whatever it takes ti get what you need
Ignore the alarm
Ignore the police
I'll never stop
Breaking the law for you

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

I see you out there
with your fellow
I don't know what to do

'Cause I been actin'
like I don't care
but you see right through

You know I want you
you can tell by
the way I look at you

Hey this guy there
you know he don't care
if you were mine, I'd know what to do

I'd please you
never leave you
never once leave you lonely'n' blue

Love you
none above you
live and die for my love is true

'Cause I'd do anything to be with you
I'd do anything to be with you

You can hurt me
just don't desert me
my heart's been broken too

Before you stop me
let me talk, please
honey, hear me through

'Cause you're the only one for me
I think you know that's true
And if you don't, take a chance
I'll take one on you. you. you.

I'd please you
never leave you
never once leave you lonely'n' blue

Love you
none above you
live and die for my love is true

'Cause I'd do anything to be with you
I'd do anything to be with you
Baby, I'd do anything to be with you

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

Well I wish a was a vampire so I could stay out all night long
I wish I was Bob Dylan so I could write a bunch of hit songs
And if I was a rolling stone, I'd roll right out of town
But I wish I was a square so I'd stop coming back around

And I don't know why I forgive the things you do to me
I don't know why I don't have the guts to set you free
And if I had one last wish I know what that would be
Well I'd wish I weren't your prisoner and that I could be released

And if I had a fast car, girl, I'd drive so far away
Far from you is far enough and that's just where I'd stay
And if I was a searcher then I'd find a brighter day
And I know you'd be alright, 'cause you don't love me anyway

And I don't know why I forgive the things you do to me
I don't know why I don't have the guts to set you free
And if I had one last wish I know what that would be
Well I'd wish I weren't your prisoner and that I could be released
Girl, I'd wish I weren't your prisoner and that I could be released

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

Come closer don't stand so far
Can't reach you where you are
'Cause you grow farther every day

I came by, I tried to care
Maybe it's better that you weren't there
'Cause I don't know what to say, anyway

By now
You're gone
Can't believe it took so long
I knew we'd never stick it out
'Cause it's all over
It's all over, darlin'
It's all over now

What was I thinkin' of
Should've just given up
When I thought that I might please you

So goodbye, baby, so long
I proved myself wrong
I'll never hold a girl like you

By now
You're gone
Can't believe it took so long
Knew we'd never stick it out
'Cause it's all over
Said it's all over, darlin'
It's all over now

It's all over
It's all over, darlin'
It's all over now, it's all over now

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

She said, Boy why don't you love me like you used to
You never want to hold me anymore
And I said, Girl now don't you go start talkin' crazy
'Cause I love you more than I ever have before

But if I don't show it lately
It's just 'cause I'm a little bit crazy
Don't think my days of lovin' you are through
'Cause I still do
I still do

Well I guess I must've slipped and let my guard down
'Cause you know you're always going to be my girl
Then I get turned around and lose direction
'Cause sometimes I forget you're my whole world

But if I don't show it lately
It's just 'cause I'm a little bit crazy
Don't think my days of lovin' you are through
'Cause I still do

I still do (Yeah!)
Hey if I don't show it lately
It's just 'cause I'm a little bit lazy
Don't think my days of lovin' you are through
'Cause I still do
I still do

I still do, darlin', I still do

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

Life goes black and silent like the night that fills the air
Searching for reason like you never had a prayer
Its funny how those things you took for granted all along and now there gone

[Chorus:]
But it keeps you reaching out for things so far away
Holding out , holding on till another day comes, till another day comes
You gota live through today

Well all those hopeless questions when your dreams are all but gone
The hardest part was knowin that you knew the answers all along
Sometimes when you finally see the light, its black and white

[Chrous:]
But it keeps you reaching out for things so far away
Holding out , holding on till another day comes, till another day comes
You gota live through today

[Chorus:]
Yea it keeps you reaching out for things so far away
Holding out , holding on till another day comes, till another day comes
You gota live through today

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )

Artist : RECKLESS KELLY
Album : Millican

You never gave a reason for leavin'
Just packed your things and you said goodbye
I guess you just got tired of believin'
In the dreams of a dreamer such as I

Usually I'm not left in this position
Most of the time, it's me who says goodbye
You never dropped a hint that you're goin'
Naturally it came as a surprise

Sittin' in a run-down dive in Austin
Anticipatin' pain from losin' you
Well it hasn't hit me yet
It'll be here you can bet
I'm sittin' here
Waitin' on the blues

I hate to get advice when I don't ask it
That's what I'm gettin' here tonight
The old man says 'cause I'm young I'm foolish
Since he's old I guess he must be right

He said I should try to forget about you
I know that's not left for me to choose
Who knows you might come back but until you do
Guess I'll sit here waitin' on the blues

Sittin' in a run-down dive in Austin
This old man's tellin' me that I can't lose
But I guess he's wrong
'cause I already lost you
Oh I'm sittin' here
Waitin' on the blues

Sittin' in a run down dive in Austin
You left me here with nothing left to lose
Well this delayed misery
You know it's damn near killin' me
I could spend a lifetime
Waitin' on the blues.

I could spend a lifetime
Waitin' on the blues

Read Users' Comments ( 0 )