Busdriver, Ellay Khule, Abstract Rude - Map Your Psyche lyrics

[Busdriver, Ellay Khule, Abstract Rude - Map Your Psyche lyrics]

Personnel Officer: Let me
See your chauffeur's
License how's your driving record?
Travis: It's clean it's real clean
Like my conscience
Personnel Officer: You gonna break my
Chops? I have trouble with
Guys like you coming in to break my chops
All the time if you're gonna break my chops
You can take it on the arches right now
You understand?
Travis: Sorry, sir i didn't mean that

I did a record before you
And sure, of course, it was a tour de force
Now you can afford a Porsche
Go to the Source awards
Get some tour support
Do all sorts of warped things
Get a smorgasbord with a horde of whores
Snort some more, leave a horrid corpse
You're so corporate endorsed that when
I record a chorus
You said you co-writ the grand corpus
With no ifs, ands, or buts
To listen to derivative works of this art-fag
I need to be in arm's reach of a barf bag
(Really?) using a bland sci-fi lab kit
No fan's hands will go sky-high for that shit
It's too anti-climactic
I'll put my bad reviews on your happy shoes

Well, it's the Busdriver and
Y'all back in school
With Ellay Khule and I’m Ab Rude, ripping it

Derivative of creative initiative
Uninhibited in no particular fashion
Indicative of an atypical mic-smashing
Considered the title class of
The fiercest survivalist
Paralyzing psychoanalyst
Magnetizing soul catalyst
Out of a cocoon a platoon would form
And how did it happen
Sprouting like alfalfa poison mushrooms
Out of the grass
Boys to men of this vast network of allies
That were sent to the rally
Point for the joint venture
Henchmen with a long-standing friendship
Based on both surviving a lynching
From those striving against them
Rise to any length, spread
Through every width, area, and circumference
It's a heavy load to lift but I
Was never known to quit nothing
I use a dolly, pulley, lever, conveyor belt
On the assembly line where all
Of the steel melts i'd weld them a chopper
Tap on a chakra to get 'em back in order
And mail them a document to tell
'em retreat back over the border
For his aura's sake to make more, innovate
And record a great album
For our styling cipher out for the Driver
I'm a clocker, as much of an actor as
Mekhi Phifer's a rhymer
He's the Busdriver and y'all back in school
And I'm Ab-Rude and with Ellay Khule
Rippin' it

Yeah, Project Blowed Collective holds
MCs of the future
I read the grid kid, I did every column
We have you mapped out

We've mapped your psyche
We know what you do before you do
Packaged it nicely
And sold it to who feeds off the style
We've mapped your psyche
We know what you do before you do
Packaged it nicely
And sold it to who feeds off the style

You couldn't break my chops with an axe
Take your time, make it fat, talking shit
Take it back mad when you kick that crap
Weak wack raps, where the real writers at?
Over here, over there, everywhere that I peek
Follow the elite, every style that I freak
Beat a nigga down when I'm bound to a beat
Microphone parts what they found
In the street pick 'em up, dust, kick it up
Time to rip it up having fun with my tongue
When I'm done give it up
Time to demonstrate how I penetrate
Hot incinerate, biting like a dinner date
It's a twist that I missed
What part of the game is this?
Where the losers go and the winners wait
To take the beginner's place
Keep my face placed on how to win the race
If they'd run, I'mma never chase
Hit 'em with the boom because
They set up base
This ain't Texas but this is
The west's Chainsaw Leather Face
Keep the golden mic in a leather case
And when it's battle time, I'mma set a pace
Every line that you find already been mine
When you rhyme, man, what a waste
You would think I'd busted a
Nut in every Hip-Hop slut
Because there's too many Mini-Me's
And some of y'all cats is finicky
So y'all quickly change to enemies
Blowing up in the industry
So they remember me
In their memory for original chops
So you better give spiritual props
To your lyrical pops
Speed seeds, I delivered a flock
Busdriver, Ellay Khule, and Ab Rude
A few Good Life emcees on the prowl
They get beat up every time
They want to eat up
And try to feed up on my style
Got your little puny mind
Your little minuscule thoughts mapped out
We've mapped your psyche
We know what you do before you do
Packaged it nicely
And sold it to who feeds off the style
Mapped your psyche
We know what you do before you do
Packaged it nicely
And sold it to who feeds off the style

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