MC Frontalot - Listen Close lyrics
[MC Frontalot - Listen Close lyrics]
Frontalot is on appointment
To rock the microphone with a
Style that’s got disjointment
Some point went out the window, got lost
This MC is unwilling to absorb
The cost i foster indignation
Don’t care if my lyrics are obtuse
And yo I’m losing my hair
And you don’t stare at the man on the
Bus who’s got the voices in his head
If he led a life of reason
Yo you know he would have said:
Listen close, listen close
Listen close to the sound:
I don’t wanna be down, I don’t wanna be down
I know what you’re thinking
You could sink into this state
I suggest you plug yes
Your ears and concentrate
Fate of the man who paid too much
Attention was the depths he plumbed
Some dumb fate it was too
The way he succumbed might have, um
Imagined a world without despair
And for that matter
I could keep my hair but beware:
Some thoughts are fantasies and
Others cold hard facts
Once you’ve given your attention
You can’t take it back
And Frontalot comes talking in
The oddest of ways
On the record that plays never
Meant to order stays
Of execution for the speedily dispatched
Now the man on the bus repeating
Like a record with a scratch
His name and number, number, name and number
Number name
Suspect that if you ask him again
He’ll tell you the same
To the casual ear the words I say
And sense do not endure an intersection
To such a sentiment I stake objection
To rock the microphone with a
Style that’s got disjointment
Some point went out the window, got lost
This MC is unwilling to absorb
The cost i foster indignation
Don’t care if my lyrics are obtuse
And yo I’m losing my hair
And you don’t stare at the man on the
Bus who’s got the voices in his head
If he led a life of reason
Yo you know he would have said:
Listen close, listen close
Listen close to the sound:
I don’t wanna be down, I don’t wanna be down
I know what you’re thinking
You could sink into this state
I suggest you plug yes
Your ears and concentrate
Fate of the man who paid too much
Attention was the depths he plumbed
Some dumb fate it was too
The way he succumbed might have, um
Imagined a world without despair
And for that matter
I could keep my hair but beware:
Some thoughts are fantasies and
Others cold hard facts
Once you’ve given your attention
You can’t take it back
And Frontalot comes talking in
The oddest of ways
On the record that plays never
Meant to order stays
Of execution for the speedily dispatched
Now the man on the bus repeating
Like a record with a scratch
His name and number, number, name and number
Number name
Suspect that if you ask him again
He’ll tell you the same
To the casual ear the words I say
And sense do not endure an intersection
To such a sentiment I stake objection