2Mex
Barely Music
Barely Music

Awol One:
Because the meaningless jargon jigsaw word phrase thesaurus battle raps chatter voice-box detox
I’m a microphone vet
Awol is a creature of God
Forever in a day
I throw up on my stupid rhyme book sketches
Because all those words that they spit
Silly immortal
Hip-hop is universal
If you’re poetic
It’s nothingness
Maybe me
It’s me with a lightening scar on my fucking forehead because there’s no music that wouldn’t have a voice
If there was no hip-hop then we wouldn’t have a choice
I believe it like it’s paranormal
It’s barely music
It’s like the ttttaaaa..!!!!!!! gets locked in the domains insane
I'm a positive against negative
My infrared robotic eye can hear from the acne meat factory all the faces of death
Come and see us and see what’s left

(Busdriver)
What is this music called? Technological animal chew-toy
It’ll send a rude boy to etiquette class
It’ll give a flu-shot to a 2Pac impersonator
Even a first grader can see I had a probable cause to shoot everyone at the inaugural ball
And squabble with dogs until they had to hobble on their paws for saying this is barely music
I’m an informative pez dispenser knocking the fez off the senator
So get off my hairy pool stick or get a mule kick in the dead center of your Jerry Lewis smile grin
They fed The Weather clip-out coupons for discounts on the crew song
But I dismount your n*** mom
And I made you with various birth defects
You don’t disserve respect
When I bleed blood and write my rhymes on a Chinese rug
And you take the tape
And you put it on high-speed dub
And you share it with your friends
Talking about
“this is what my daddy does
He’s a LA underground G
And like him I want to be an MC." When around me you form elliptical orbits
Your umbilical chord gets clipped and your navel stitched
And I realign your satellite cable dish
And no you can’t record with Daedelus
Get away you wailing bitch
You’ve been taken off the mailing list and given a bag of bagel chips for workers comp
I’m a Leimert (Park) cop and you’re a tiny rapper under protective custody of The Weather
(Radioinactive)
I know that this could be disturbing to some people
Throwing wooden Frisbees across this suburban easel
Louise and Ernesto will wait for escrow
And make some pesto
And hand painted t-shirts
Eat deviled eggs for several days and finish with Danish desserts
You're the famous Eater Bunny
I heard you owe Jesus money
Is it dangerous to bleach your teeth? I’ve paid much more for cheaper seats
When she plays ping pong
She plays for keeps

(2Mex)
Dr. Octopus
Detroit
Demento
Octave all of us deployed essential
Sequence
She can wince
Be convinced
Be pollen
But believe all
And forget outer
It gets louder
Orchids
Flowers
Time-lapse photography
Lying maps on all of me
Co-ordinance
Board immense
Afford the fence
Master lock
Castle rock entertainment
Massive jocks under a payment
Wonder where the winter of days went
Night-school stalker
Fight through the talker
Chameleon
Calm alien bomb through the dawn
Snow flake
Know the date
Not home to take
Survey surveillance
Were they in cadence
We stay cognate
They spray inhalants into the audience
Listening all against God glistening
Mom missing me
I’m missing her
(Circus)
A few years ago
A friend of mine
Asked me to say some MC rhymes
Well
Imma say the rhyme I’m about to say
The rhyme was the bomb and it went this way
And so the next day came and I heard that someone said that hip-hop was dead
Hmm
Is that the case?
Is hip-hop dead?
Like
No way dude
I can already read your mind
So I know what your thinking
Dog
By the way I got your girl’s head nodding
We keep the party crunkulating with this funky type of abstract rhythms
Hmm
What’s this monster that you’ve created
Hmm
It seems I made a new type of undestructible wack MC creature in my funky-ass laboratory
It was designed to scream and moan just like a torture bitch on the M-I-C
Over a beat that sounds just like a clone off this one
Check it out
I push record and then you extend your arms and you begin to walk just like a zombie in the direction of the mall
And then you pick it up
And then you buy it up
And then you stuff it in to your mouth and then you eat it up
And it tastes good
And then this creepy sound comes seeping out between the cracks of your teeth
Boom-box
Yeah
That too
It spits a dog-eared pitch that emits a strange and bizarre frequency that can hypnotize and convince a barely legal coke whore to get in the trance
And do the forbidden dance
And that’s why you like it so much
Yeah
The jokes on you
The yolks on your face
Cause I tricked you into thinking that this was actually dope
Cool
Stuff
When all along it really wasn't
Ha
Ha
Ha
He
He
He
Y'all are some whomptee
Me so horny
Y'all so crazy
You're stupid for believing that this was really music
Except it really isn't
It's just glopety gloop
It's gloopety goo
It's glopety gunk
Or however you spell that shit