Lupe Fiasco - Mural Lyrics
[Verse]We're all chemicals, vitamins and mineralsVicodin with inner tubes, wrapped around the armTo see the vein like a chicken on the barnTop Cat chat, let's begin another yarnThat's flying saucer cheese, or is it chicken parm'?But roosters don't fly like boosters don't buySo what powers cowards to get them to the topJust to fall asleep listening to Bach?The ribbon in the sky is the ribbon that I dropDribbling the eye across the prism of a clockThat lacks meaning, but racks up stacks of fat readingThey catch chief and wrapped up plants from trap dealingsNow what's a coffin with a scratched ceiling?And what's the talking without the match feeling?As buried living and cherry pickingEvery linen from your berry systemThen proceed with the pack feedingWhen I was young I had visions of another worldSneaking looks at the porn stash of my brother HurlIncense smoke made vortices and other curlsCasting calls from porn films and ad space for rubber girlsI like my pancakes cut in swirlsMoroccan moles and undercover squirrelsI like cartoons, southern cities with large moonsFaith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art boomsApologize for my weird mixWhat taste like hot dogs and tear dripsAnd looks like pantomime and clear bricksAnd smells like shotguns and deer pissThey on their hunt, kinda salty that I'm going hardFirst part of a party, that I throw in partsOne minute you're playing pool, next minute you're throwing dartsBut that's how you do with a party that you throw in barsI run the Gambit like I'm throwing cardsFrom popular mechanics to overdosing heartsPaint cold pictures like Nova Scotia landscapesNerd game make Mandelbrot sets when we handshakeA word game back up plan that can dam lakesBackup the wordplay playing at the man's statesMean I can still be the man if the dam breaksAnd when the man brakes I'm reflectious, what they can't faceMy peers will still treat the mirror like it's a fan baseThe unfettered veteran, the eagle feathered man of medicineThat hovers above cities like weather menAnd maybe weather womanWhatever better to tell ya weather comin'I prefer girls to reign all over the worldAnd not rain like, rain man or rain like rain danceOr rain like a slight chance of rain when it's rainingOr rein like deer slaves to Santa Claus sleigh manBut reign like Queens that reign over made manAnd not Queen like Queen killer, rhapsody bohemian QueenBut Queen like white glove wave handAnd not wave hand like it's a heat waveSo you make a fan by waving your handI'm talking wave like you saying, "hey"Man, and not hay for horses and hoarse like you almost voicelessYou gotta treat your vocal chords like it's a fortressAnd treat every single one of your words like reinforcementsAnd especially when you're recordingCause that's the portion that's importantWhen I was reporting that I was poorBut now I'm more thanIt's still hooker heels on my sugar hills and sweet spotsCrying shames, make margarita rims from cheap topsDeep plots in floor, the ceiling windows for my peep potsA little scene with the sickle swings to make the wheat dropAnd a hundred words for them hummingbirds that like to eavesdropAnd fan out like pea*****s with a parakeet that beat boxSo the sun rise when the beat dropsAnd the sun dies when the beat stops...Then it unties, then it relocksThen it relapsed, then it detoxThen heat back like a heat packOn his knee caps of the weak spotCause he want what we got, like yeahThen forge poetry like a young honory MorrisseyThen spit it to the golden locks thots who like their porridge all wateryNot scorching nor sorbityFrom the steel orbitings, sorcerer, sorceryComing down gorgeouslyJust like a Stacey Dash waterfallA more torturing, a water boarding Barbie dollA river of women like a Brazilian CarnivalSwimming in feminine bikinis made out of barbasolSomebody give them the volleyballsIf you love her, don't ever send her to Mally Mall'sHomie if she lonely she might end up in Macauly's clawsComing out the closet over goblets down at Madri GrasThe fame, champagne, walk of shame lobby callMy reposition was black condition of activismAmmunition for abolition, missions attacking systemsBut they're not apt to listen, unless it's dropping on ActivisionAre we apps or are we bodies filled with apparitionsOperating applications, stuck inside a Apple prisonChicken hack and download updates that lack religionOr are we more... Than soil tainting, disloyal changelingsPreoccupied with boy and Goyle chasingAnd foiling other's royal saintings?I sit back and watch the world through the eye holes in my oil paintingsUhhh!Ain't nothin' to it but to do itUnless you Virgin Mary, nothin' do it but the truestBelieve all that unless you JewishLife is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurusAnd I feel like a missionary to a clitorisThe water bearer heir of traditions that I swear to never changeMy chair position or conditions of my porridgeSubmission for sedition against the religion of a chorusKeep them golden weave thieves out the mother*****in' forestAs I perform a nerve stormI prefer my pictures in word formBury the hatchet like how a bird bornAs I paint cold pictures like Kool-Aid facing condensationHaving conversations with flavourful combinationsSlave to my concentrationSo that's oj da Juiceman meets oj with two handsAnd two gloves, that's too snugTo judge who was, who drew bloodAnd, Lupe look at all these toucansIn a cemetery full of tomahawkesGiving middle fingers to the pigeons doing somersaultsRoad runners don't fall off cliffs, they run acrossAnomalies by the colony, flukes by the reservoirWildin' pursuers end up as poofs on the desert floorLevitating youths who know the truth of where the fountain hidesBucaraa Roof painting tunnels onto the mountain sidesA thousand parts a pound of heart an ounce of eyesAnnouncing now the doubt in mouth pronounces a count of liesChocula Counts by the count of 5, refrigerator roof full of animals and monstersIncinerator chutes and the manual for ContraAssorted memories from my childhoodAbsorbing energy from the wild woodsElectronic combat Konami sign contractChinese char killing cucarachas on contactChicago spray gun aficionadoEfficient spitting bridging divisions isn't ChicanoWho’s the Boss? If isn't Alyssa MilanoDudikoff, ninja mission into the CongoPolarize envy of the older guysBlack obi, shinobi hittin' Kenno in the face with all my throwin' knivesSub-zero guiding, hiding, riding in the pack as wellSound village, Leaf village, wolf spirit, magic spellsDodging rain and catching hailFaces need samurais to catch the LSpecial research vessels made for catching whalesFilet-o-fish ships sea-shepherded peppered with extra sailsRewrite history, liberty needs a better bellMaybe hotter irons and carbon fibres that never failSmarter science mixed with a odd alliance of fairytaleOr maybe just a metal pail that you hit with a steel toolsTo announce that you've had enough and dropping out of seal schoolJust like trout jumping out they house to let they gills coolCuba-scuba couldn't take the temperature of my skill poolI said it feels cool to kill foolsSlipping through the cracks like when you try to grill gruelTake no Viking water bottle and not following pill rulesWill have you off of the throttle when you should be modelin' chill moodRoller skater maker or are you just cobblin' wheel shoesOverweight taster of kings food that kills crewsOblivious feather-weight baker who autographed cakes whenever his quill moves over your mealYou simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel groove with the abbot, practising stillnessReal still til he realizes his realnessDefeat Samsara achieves nirvana and brilliance
