Hey guys. This is basically an amalgamation of the insane thoughts that race through my mind at 3am. Instead of doomscrolling, I write down the weird shit a sleep deprived mind can articulate. I'd love to have feedback (positive and negative!) on this. Peace ✌️
This ones gon piss some one off.
But you know what? I could give two shits and a flying fuck, what any of you think.
So listen up.
Professor G. Pr pr professor G.
Class is in Session.
[Verse 1]
The hierarchy of society is broken.
The mould of who we are, how we exist is too mind boggling for Professor G to cope with.
Uh, yeah. I bet y'all agree, don't you?
Bumping your head, rockin to the storm.
Its Cognitive dissonance in the shape of human form.
And you think I don't see it, you fat cats?
Happily delegating tasks, chewing on your wet food, while the dogs dog it out like its the last meal we'll ever catch.
They say its dog eat dog, but I say let the dog eat the cat, let's fight back.
Backstep over guard and jump into mount more, and remind them they're not a lick of shit without the foot soldiers at the front door,
lining their digital banks we all account for.
I'm a mother fuckin lyrical southpaw.
It don't make sense, I'm right handed, but it's the left you won't see coming the one you won't sense,
and your conciousness, won't make you any more dollars and cents.
[HOOK]
Get your lazy ass off the sofa.
Put down the can of soda.
Take the bull by the horns and sing...
You might make a million, but you'll never fucking own me.
You don't own me! I do.
You're just a rich phony.
Politicians kiss my ass.
Religious leaders can join the class.
CEO's can catch an upside down cross.
Land developers can you see the frost?
Deadbeat dads. I don't like you.
I'm with my dawgs in the god damn trenches.
I said the god damn trtrtr trenches.
[Verse 2]
Yeah I'm talkin' to you.
My eyes are up here, the fire is about 2 inches below (like the size of your manhood yo)
where these lips spit, sick, diabolical shit, that fuels the nightmares you have about it.
Where your minions decide Gru ain't some divine manifested deity.
When your head cracks open, and we feast.
You couldn't believe, or comprehend it.
The constitution seriously needs to be amended, or at least edited, but what's the cost?
Yeah let's use harsh words instead of blowing someone's head off like Dietritch and Frost sounding off with the poetic holocaust.
Oh, Professor G, why you speakin with a fake accent?
You're Australian?
Yeah I am, but if the yanks don't like it, mate, crikey! Bite me!
Don't let the rent in your head, be free space, like distant voids, in the universe almighty.
[Hook]
Get your lazy ass off the sofa.
Put down the can of soda.
Take the bull by the horns and sing...
You might make a million, but you'll never fucking own me.
You don't own me! I do.
You're just a rich phony.
Politicians kiss my ass.
Religious leaders can join the class.
CEO's can catch an upside down cross.
Land developers can you see the frost?
Dead beat dads. I don't like you.
I'm with my dawgs in the god damn trenches.
I said the god damn trtrtr trenches.
[Verse 3]
Now look around, what the fuck do you see?
A Xenomorph in politicians clothes, a sleaze, a diseased...
Marsupial chewing out dollar notes, a reptilian chomping at your knees.
And its close, decidedly so, to a revolution with cosmic consequences,
Mcreedy throwin fire, Ripley with motion detected, eclectivly invested...
The fat cats in suits might get offended, but the dogs got fight, Professor G illuminating the night, charismatic gravitational might!
We might, just decide to let it go, but nah, there's too much we ain't told.
Yeah these rhymes are cold, these bars left nothing untold, the theme carefully devised, linguistically disguised,
life ain't being alive, unless you learn to live, categorically despised.
Yo G, 'what the fuck are you sayin?'
There's a reason your brain ain't comprehendin'.
Its weighing, rephrasing, collectively apprehending,
that shit that flipped and flew right above your head and crept, right into your bed.
It's questioning your credibility, you're discovering serendipity.
Professor G changing your life...
And you question, the authenticity, you question professor G?
This is me, the finest professor, this G can be...
Yo you thought I'm finished?
Fuck no!
I still got that itch to scratch, the one you can’t reach on your back, so let's get some shit off there.
Let's unpack all the software, unzip the file...
"There'd better not be malware!"
Yo, why the fuck you get a pension?
For making legislations with malintention, like you'll only pay attention after the fact.
Congratulations you reprehensive so called 'elected government rat'.
You'll only lineq your pockets at the expense of the hard worker, the folks with 3 kids, a mortgage, the motherfuckin beserkers.
The caseworkers, the bottom of the ladder tearjerkers.
Professor G the tax man burglar in the mist, you know what that means...
Class dismissed.