Sage Francis - Cheat Code lyrics

(I talk a lot of shit
But I can back it all the fuck up)
I don' talk about it really
But I’m still the illest still the baddest
Bless the apparatus I got
Silverback gorilla status
I pull the one red string
That runs through your mattress
And make your bed springs sing
A song of sadness
Sad sack of shit, pack your things and go
I’m hopping freight trains with
Nothing but a bindle (no hobo)
Little homie said ‘'YOLO’‘ no props
I photobomb your photo ops
Busting out the robocop
Teach me how to dougie, kid
I’d rather do the knowledge
Now go home and get your shine box
You got a couple shoes to polish
Undergrad, this ain’t no humblebrag
I’ve sonned one too many
Johnny come latelies, now baby come to dad
Cause he don’t need no cheat
Code to go beast mode
All he really needs is a M-IC to freak flows
(I talk a lot of shit
But I can back it all the fuck up)
Bump a runner up if I’m not top billing
I’m show stealing
Sistine Chapel vandal type
Tag the whole ceiling
Sick of hearing rap with no feeling
Sick of trauma porn addicts
Thinking they’re poets
That’s not soul bearing
Break yourself, fix your face
My heartbeat breaks the 808’s
Now update your database
So many Roc Raida tapes
Not enough functional dual cassette decks
Who will you sweat next?
Stupid, I maneuvered through a
School full of rednecks
Some people I was cool with
Despite a few death threats
Sacrificed a social life, food
And some rent checks
So I can grab a mic where
The hell ever I like, and catch wreck
Yeah, I got swung on from time to time
Been cornered in some clubs just
For speaking my mind
Mental midgets couldn’t come up with
The lyrics or rhymes
Now I’m back popping more shit
Than ever and I’m fine
Find me if you need me, son
I’m easy to locate
You finally gonna feed me? Then
I’m eating that whole cake
Got licensing in movies and
TV? That’s so great
Don’t break your coke nail
Trying to throw weight, okay?
Curb stomp your enthusiasm
Don’t expect resolutions just 'cause
Every movie has ‘em
Don’t expect revolution from the music
That is solely created for the
Sake of booty clapping fool, keep rapping
Release the kraken, beat back the back beat
Blending instrumentals
Running my mouth at the track meet
My victory lap shows no mercy in this dojo
Spinning back-kick the Willie Bobo
Sweep the head breaking bread with
The best of 'em
Crumbs are left under the table
For the rest of 'em
I don’t speak in metaphysics 'cause
I’m not a metaphysicist
I’ll diss the living shit out
Of these so called lyricists fuck y'all

(You don’t like it? Kiss my
Ass you don’t like it, this my house
‘Cause we don't need no cheat
Codes to go beast mode
All he really needs is a M-IC to freak flow)

Excuse me for having ethics
I don’t eff with little toys
I learned to scratch on phonographs
Got my ups with Kilroy
A killjoy? You're crying over
Spilled soy milk
I'll destroy the shit brick house
That your roids built
You walk tall ‘til I kick out your stilts
You look buff 'til I call your
Bluff and pull up your kilt
You’ve been padding your resume
While I’ve been rhyming about life like
I’m rapping my death away
Stay well composed, figuratively, literally
They prefer a hashtag to metaphor, simile
Brag rap to poetry, backtrack to symphony
Sweet talk the sour puss
Press and push bitterly
The days of getting degraded
They ain’t diminish me
Oh uh, but they prefer the skinny me?
I’m an emotional leader of the
Emcees who sit in sulk
Fuck being complicated
Uncle Sage is difficult
It’s a cult of personality stuck
In a false reality
It’s all a bunch of mall punk
And dance club rap to me
Swagger jacking, black cracker
Battle rap has gone minstrel
Born on third base acting like
They hit a triple
With a wiffleball bat walking pretty
Talking gritty with no app, in fact
It’s all theory
I promised your death threats
Don’t actually kill me
But bite my dog and I'mma scratch your kitty

It’s like that, y'all, it’s like that
Y'all
It’s like that-that-that, it’s like that
Y'all
It’s like that, y'all, it’s like that
Y'all
It’s like that-that-that, it’s like that
Y'all talk shit