Grand Analog I Play My Kazoo
Grand Analog
Metropolis is Burning
This is a story of a man from down south
The fam migrated to the north
I’m a put you on what it’s about
The regular routes, and shanty towns that produce the
poor
Born in the gutter, word to his mother
Make her something outta nothing
Matter, work harder, go farther
My poppa said you gotta pop a lock on the purpose
Gotta love than you implement the heart
Recognize the cause, make it true, whatever you do
Whether you save the lives or play the kazoo
Be the author not the actor of your chapter too
Blank pages in this open book, now look
I could break it down like whatever you want
I come equipped with the sound and equipped with the
funk
Like, like whatever you want
Yes I’m doing my thing
Doing my thing I do what I do
Walk the line, I play my kazoo
Shoot nothing but love when I aim at you
I be the baritone rapper with the falsetto
I walk with myself, talk to myself
It’s hard I know I like to exercise the mental health
I know that I could do it like no one else
So come alive with the sun beneath the earth
Capture that moment in time like a camera
Withstand the land of a thousand bands
I am a man with no answers
Although I know the analog is grand
That come apart like trouble man
I could break it down like whatever you want
I come equipped with the sound and equipped with the
funk
Like, like whatever you want
Yes I’m doing my thing
Doing my thing I do what I do
Walk the line, I play my kazoo
Shoot nothing but love when I aim at you
I be the baritone rapper with the falsetto
Got my headphones on, take the long walk home
Recite colorful flows like Pablo Picasso
Coon fellow collected, connect
When I metal on the mic, big city bright lights
Got me broken wide open till I’m useless
Like arthritis to a violinist, I can’t diminish
I scrimmage with the wrist when I write, sip Guinness
I break it down to the compound when I’m in it
Believe it and you’ll know, feel it when it flows
He feel it in his toes, she feel it in her nipples
Possibly maybe hit the spot that tickles
With the beats and the rhymes sinking in like dimples
I play my kazoo
