[Verse 1: Open Mike Eagle]
I once played the fool at a DOOM show
Really thought it was him 'cause I stood back a few rows
Angry people threw 'bows and crushed a few toes
It was like a live production of The Emperor’s New Clothes
Promoter/rappers book me gigs at new venues
You get there and there’s just a few menus
A fucking employee rocking a grin like a Cheshire Cat
And I'm wearing a jester hat
Sitting there watching him cut up pepperjack
The rap fans on the net are the fucking biggest ones
Steady letting babyfaces mark ‘em for hit-and-runs
A bunch of fool players learning new prayers
None of 'em showing you how to be your own soothsaying oracle
At least take turns, like a two-player portable
Play the mark or play the carney
Stay in the dark or host the party
Write the play or play in the park like a child, shit
I be watching Soul School like an old fool
All up in the wrong castle like Mario and Toadstool
I’m from the Blowed, fool—it's also a pronoun
Bought the deed to some land in a South Pole snow town
[Verse 2: Moka Only]
Ugh, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I'm lame
Cats is nice with the game in this record lane—not!
Still I manage to get strung along
Once I brung a song to the tabletop and had it flop
Wasn't for the lack of opportunity knocking
Just a lot of empty promises and halfhearted talking
Even paperwork don't seem to hold a lot ofwater
Never seeing sales reports or reports of my slaughter in retail land (Huh)
I've tried to expand (Huh)
Done a lot for the cause but the rebel gets slammed (Slammed)
Doors (Doors) never opening after initial work
Promoters holdin out on the dough, I’m thinkin this will work
Every time I sign on the line, at least try to flex optimism
And see the shine I get idle text
One of these days I may really wake up
But for now they keep foolin 'til my band break up and that's tough
I once played the fool at a DOOM show
Really thought it was him 'cause I stood back a few rows
Angry people threw 'bows and crushed a few toes
It was like a live production of The Emperor’s New Clothes
Promoter/rappers book me gigs at new venues
You get there and there’s just a few menus
A fucking employee rocking a grin like a Cheshire Cat
And I'm wearing a jester hat
Sitting there watching him cut up pepperjack
The rap fans on the net are the fucking biggest ones
Steady letting babyfaces mark ‘em for hit-and-runs
A bunch of fool players learning new prayers
None of 'em showing you how to be your own soothsaying oracle
At least take turns, like a two-player portable
Play the mark or play the carney
Stay in the dark or host the party
Write the play or play in the park like a child, shit
I be watching Soul School like an old fool
All up in the wrong castle like Mario and Toadstool
I’m from the Blowed, fool—it's also a pronoun
Bought the deed to some land in a South Pole snow town
[Verse 2: Moka Only]
Ugh, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I'm lame
Cats is nice with the game in this record lane—not!
Still I manage to get strung along
Once I brung a song to the tabletop and had it flop
Wasn't for the lack of opportunity knocking
Just a lot of empty promises and halfhearted talking
Even paperwork don't seem to hold a lot ofwater
Never seeing sales reports or reports of my slaughter in retail land (Huh)
I've tried to expand (Huh)
Done a lot for the cause but the rebel gets slammed (Slammed)
Doors (Doors) never opening after initial work
Promoters holdin out on the dough, I’m thinkin this will work
Every time I sign on the line, at least try to flex optimism
And see the shine I get idle text
One of these days I may really wake up
But for now they keep foolin 'til my band break up and that's tough
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