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Been a Long Year

by Wombaticus Rex

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1.
It's the head scratching, nose pickin' red dragon flows kickin' ass I twist the facts until belief systems crack, switch it back and leave the physics lab like nothing happened that cocky dude walking through the rubble laughing cuz I been burned enough to learn to trust my gut reactions ...so if my brain is just connections and arrangements of electric interfaces and reflections with entanglements and resonance and changes in the messages updated every second with the latest in intelligence, then basically your measurements ain't shit.... ....shazam, I just made your claims irrelevant I'm the walking, talking illustrated guide to killing space and time and how to train your mind to recognize the danger signs so watch and listen, I'm broadcast live in vodka vision and change my job description 'till I got no competition, dig it I'm talking simple shit: just eating a sandwich falling asleep in a hammock and not even needing pajamas that's the discipline, thinking faster than the average citizen I got a guilty conscience but I mastered acting innocent I vomit comic books, bloody noses, blowing ritalin with people on the street and screaming at Jehovah's witnesses so oblivious that I've been known to quote Leviticus outside your local liqour store, holding stolen Guinnesses prone to wickedness, but still keep my flow ridiculous and stoners dig this shit because I spit with coded images every working day is just a perfect waste of precious life bleeding out your dreams beneath these weak flourescent lights I trained this little chimp....now he's been elected twice sacred language, if you get this mic, bless it right sometimes there's no explaining all this weight in my chest pen to paper like a razor to flesh, mistakes and regrets it's all about safety, respect and breakable necks as real as breathing and as sacred as sex cipher complete, wordsound slicing the beat cuz the archetypes change but the cycle repeats noble born, dreaming of a world with open doors the resurrected Wombat King with broken horns lock with the beat, watch your chains drop to my feet it's the sideways escape plan that shocked the police criminal scams, the psylocybin ritual dance with invisible hands tickling my pineal glands crazy intense....information re-arranged in my head remembering the taste of her flesh, naked in bed I wrote this shit after I left for a month, she gets in the blood genetics and molecular love after all the opening scence and awkward circumstances from the nervous glances to the first advances I tried doing love songs, the lesson I learned is that you can't do it justics when you dress it it words so change channels and watch as young lovers become their own father and daugher <chhhk> mother and son cipher complete, the wordsound slicing the beat cuz the archetypes change but the cycle repeats
2.
3.
The Deal 02:20
I will not provide a pre-packaged product for you I'm quality food, so mouth shut, shallow and chew speaking in tongues. I came to shower people with love like, you're not breathing enough, and that's the reason you suck some cats can't follow me past the first line too deep that ant colony cattle herd mind I laugh it up, no matter what's happening, I'm fine just glad to be alive and looking fabulously fly rode home on a bike, flat broke every night focused, precise, and in total control of my life and you're a chump to me, just company property rap I'm watching my back, burn bridges at the drop of a hat ripping mics and living like Jesus for now so if you see me in town, let me sleep on your couch, really am-bivalent about the thought of fans listening and watching my hands scribbling contraband images yes, you are now in tune with the sound of poverty album quality, straight to underground economy you heard about the thirtyseven but you never witnessed it human television with depth and vivid images what's the gameplan? watch my ego do a faceplant a changed man, used to have a basic cable brainpan what you got, dude? nothing but a rhyme and a hot loop and a promise you can stop it the second it's not true now you rappers make it hard to believe in your music I hear what you're saying, the problem is I see what you're doing now if I bless the beat, best believe I spoke it honestly because I know you're watching me like the flow was stolen property so from all the love and respect to all the stuff I regret when it's five o clock in the morning and nothing is left no lies and no secrets to hide from those demons cuz we live like dogs and we die for no reason so strip the language away, the games that we play, be creative and brave and go get naked today, with single moms living on some government checks who struggle with debt facing a future that's nothing but stress see, I choose to speak to those who truly need the food and heat losing sleep while their favorite rapper shops for jewlery kids who learned firsthand the truth is useless going to school with bruises and a thousand smooth excuses broken down for those who doubt the pain behind the music like, let's rewind the tape so I can find the frame to prove it yes, you are now in tune with the sound of poverty album quality, straight to underground economy you heard about the thirtyseven but you never witnessed it human television with depth and vivid images what you got, dude? nothing but a rhyme and a hot loop and a promise you can stop it the second it's not true
4.
5.
Thirtyseven 03:08
been having dark nights lately, and serious doubts feeling like I drove another year in the ground pacing round the kitchen with a beer in my mouth but thirtyseven is a name that you'll be hearing about chyo --- I went from therapists to anger management I fucking hate myself and I'm still insanely arrogant Inhumane is back, so kiss my famous ass I'm still blazing tracks and drinking outta paper bags I figure rhythm is basically math buck naked and smashed drunk, taking a bath, UH I say "fuck" because it hits you like an uppercut sucker punch driving out the demons that you suffer from talk business, drop physics long distance and scare the shit outta fake Babylon Christians you know the type...who can't take their own advice stop passing judgement like they know they're right spit focused light, hick poltergiest rips open mics with some bloody lips cuz I hit broken pipes Moon Wookies --- shouts to the fam catch me out in the van with half an ounce in my hand like "you see these trees? I got some PCP and I'm about to black out for at least three weeks" the edible, the smokable, the liquid, the lines putting back acid ten-strips at a time my ego is bulletproff, metal and glass so I'll never react to your pathetic attacks know the facts, keep it 360 zodiac and make it heavy like a Kodiak with a broken back (chorus) it's the rap Rasputin mutant, scattering words and patterns emerge with a parabola curve I aim for eye contact, tried to connect and get your nerve clusters up inside of my head I'm nothing special....a dude with a plan two hundred grand, and removable hands a diseased mind....and I still bleed rhymes building pyramids with one mic and three eyes keep my brain active with strange tactics: change habits, fuck demons and slay dragons producing some beats, handing out my music for free and having all the usual dreams of losing my teeth wake up, floss and brush, take lots of drugs get my brain going with that coffee rush and yes...my hot production cost me nothing "who's your DJ?" That's a long discussion, plus he only talks in russian, fuck it (chorus) Wombat's wasted....hilarious, right? my mouth is a burial site for stereotypes people drive home with their mind blown whenever I throw live shows in your local time zone eyes closed....pineal spits, divine flow cuz rocking spots properly provides dough but keep it calm, cuz all your phantom enemies and random memories are just a dance of energy it's thirtyseven with the emptiness inside of the form I work with perfect circles from the eye of the storm I got a face you can trust...but haven't shaved it in months and I'm just not famous enough to blame it on drugs Friday night, Crystal Lake property and I been ripping fakes in tripping states constantly I think about selling out...but never done it I got an empty stomach and I paid for every penny of it but don't laugh, cuz it could happen to you I mean...are you riding the beat, or just trapped in the groove?
6.
After all the sheets and the beats I mastered police harassment, quick victories and complete disasters after all the time I dropped the ball, forgot to call got wasted, bet the farm and lost it all after I lost the script, started talking shit sixteen years later and I'm still a cocky prick after the broken nose, the PCP overdose after learning everything I'm not supposed to know after I learned to survive. convert it to rhymes and get it all out before it burns me alive after the flood, packing and unpacking my stuff and trips to the bathroom to flush the last of the drugs after I adapted to the rappers life at home long nights alone, making out with microphones and after everything we had got lost and burned baby, we still got each other so I am not concerned
7.
No Clue 03:53
keep my face low, palestinian space ghost rappers take notes when I fabricate flows you play video games, I assassinate popes payment in pesos, pornos and straight coke from suburban activists to southern baptist kids even my dad gets pissed when I do a track like this got cats putting bets on what's happening next as a hick rapper in debt becomes a national threat I tickle nipples, then spit a triple axel do prozac, then paxil, and freestyle some fractals I'm sick of breast jokes and cigarette smoke and I think the West Coast is an internet hoax I give a fraction of a fuck if some rapper thinks I suck the only time I do this crap is when I'm drunk athiests are pussies, i'm such a crazy hick I refuse to believe that time and space exist don't be mad at my clique cuz we can battle like this fact is, we grew up without a sattelite dish raised with lame toys, like wooden Game Boys so I just kinda crossed my eyes and made noise now check this, the epileptic etch-a-sketch kid gets arrested for possession of herbal weapons got lots of fresh purple pot from Feds plus roxicets from undercover cops with dreads blaze a bowl of asian grown in the danger zone I'll be safe at home until they trace the phone switch to channel six, fix some decent food and start to read the clues beneath the news cuz CNN tells me that Mohammed's wrong and Osama's mom got raped by Satan on Ramadan and on an on....but I can make the connections flick the sound off and watch their facial expressions a couple steps beyond your monkey lexicon you connect with rappers, I connect with God you impressed your girlfriend, I impressed your Mom you write verses, I freestyle perfected songs and I promise to stop mocking religion just as soon as they admit they put the Goddess in prison I freestyle drunk, cuz in Vermont it's religion half conscious and spitting out monsters and visions thirtyseven never forgetting my fellow tripping kids sick of this ridiculous culture full of wickedness personal philosophies, recipes to rock the beat preaching, prophecy, poetry, pornography fucking with fundamental parts of the government and smuggling my drugs inside the ark of the covenenant I summon demons and stuff, deep in the drums it's like I need to get drunk and start speaking in tongues they found me in a drunk tank up in Pakistan with cotton mouth and cumstains on my khaki pants bring condoms and vodka, but keep the rifles warm cuz if we can't party, what the fuck are we fighting for? wombat's back, and still lethal to fascists I got Will to Power and libido to match it, touch me I keep a policy of open aggression living in the shadow of two stolen elections and I'm still not political, fuck your opinions go start a militia or a smuggling business I got friends who went from harmless potheads to being monitored by a lot of the top Feds job promotions, I'm open minded and claustrophobic so I keep my mouth cocked and loaded the vision statement, rituals in prison basements triple agents with sixty different faces not even worth it, spit the sloppiest verses in the hospital flirting with Chzeckoslovakian nurses.
8.
Common Sense 03:12
9.
23 04:20
(and it depresses me at night how people never see the light when they're getting resurrected every second of their life) saving the planet? done deal, I take it for granted man, we'll all be getting laid and eating grapes in a hammock Sol Harvest Live, this how we make a living and escape the system of Satan's prisons and fake religion it's thirtyseven getting in hilarious predicaments and living in the space between arrogance and ignorance it's hard to just accept that there's really nothing left so I do this for the love, respect and monthly checks so after the writers block, after the fights with God after all the ciphers, spots and mics I've rocked even getting drunk I never once regretted the fact I been to Heaven and back cuz I just couldn't settle for that sick of flipping the script, nowadays I read it backwards cuz I've always seen it happen in the same repeating patterns so there's no hidden message at the end of the day except for the way she blushes when you mention my name it's been 23 years of pain, music and dreams where the Universe is horny and the food is for free which usually means, that even all the talent, respect and love in the world, can't save you from reality checks I'm still the same asshole, pathological as usual I just try to make my lies really obvious and beautiful so in a sick world with nothing sacred left thirtysevens starting to learn the basic steps I keep it crazy visual with gangs of criminals freebasing at Freemason initiation rituals threesixty panoramic with the random camera tricks and tan hispanic chicks eating salamander sandwiches I spit lucid dreams onto mental movie screens and move between everything you think my music means I try to explain, but people can not understand it like I was talking in spanish or dropping quantum mechanics but check it out, there's not a lot I get upset about the stupid kids that used to piss me off, I don't sweat em now mellowed out with a hands on approach to physics busted pencils, bloody noses, broken dishes burning calories trying to drown my personality and open up my mind enough to just observe reality so between me and you, it's kinda hard to separate you get left with fake equations that echo in empty space it's been 23 years of pain, music and dreams where the Universe is horny and the food is for free which usually means, that even all the talent, respect and love in the world, can't save you from reality checks yeah, I'm still the same asshole, pathological as usual I just try to make my lies really obvious and beautiful so in a sick world with nothing sacred left thirtysevens starting to learn the basic steps
10.
11.
Eat 02:32

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released April 1, 2013

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Wombaticus Rex Vermont

Northeast Kingdom representative. Back ten years later to complete the great work. See you in '24.

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