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Burn de microphones Lyrics

Burn de microphones by Don Johnson Big Band  

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Burn de microphones I'm crossing tracks
painting tags on the walls of the metro
paradoxical truths like modern day retro
water and petrol, protons and electrodes
reality I let go with pro-con anecdotes
thoughts shifting from topic to topic
skip it, hop it, flip-flip I flop it
catch a beat just to drop it
give me a door and I'll lock it, knock it
a floor and I'll mop it
the beat is rotating, rotating, I can't stop it

cities aflame, war games and internal conflicts
guerrilla warfare and insurrection bomb hits
eternal conflicts of hatred and sword explored
all aboard the m/s Lord, errors ignored
how many registered votes for the poor and illiterate?
allow me to reiterate my concern for the bitter fate
of poverty-stricken cities you choose to discriminate
how inconsiderate to set a rate to eliminate
a culture you gave root to you now disintegrate
can't let it blossom, can't let it proceed to a better state
no need to mitigate, clean up the graffiti and incinerate
every page of social commentary by rappers you litigate

now I got you listening to my hip-notic hop device
words glistening and they flow like melting ice
I'm like the cool urban cat that can't catch any mice
Vegas lice, casino hustler with no dice
poor like Dice raw, energetic once more
no contour, unapologetic on tour
twice or less, seeking success and its price
throw a slice of the wedding cake
and wonder where the rice is
in para-lysis with para-vices
like Isis with a fertility crisis
getting adverse advice from a demon that entices
the mind and the body like erotic license

the measure of intensity intensified
to a point where only pleasure and pain cleanse the mind
hence, to find, pause, forward, rewind
some sense behind the senseless grind
of the millions of humbled unconscious civilians
enslaved by the politics of palaces, pavilions
officers, batallions, provoking rebellions
decorated head-to-toe with medals and medillions

turn off the lights and disconnect the cables
burn the microphones and bury the turntables
words, fatal revolution lables
dangerous fables



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