Gap Year

by MC|DC

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about

some raps and stuff from ya boy with a little help from the homies

credits

released November 12, 2014

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MC/DC Tempe, Arizona

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Track Name: Alley Cats
I feel like this fucking valley's packed with alley cats, and scalleywags and rallies at the park with barking dogs whose owners wear their hearts on tote bags,
I expect that, just like Midwestern expats with neck tats and college kids who get fat and attend frats,
and their friends back home are like, "he's chubby. Does he eat instead of study, 'cause he's always tagged at T-Bell with his buddies and did he sell his soul to BuzzFeed, 'cause he must read every single thing they post, I guess it's surf the net or go outside and roast.
Six hours from the coast, and days away from home, I roam this foreign land where man has poured his might into the sand.
I'm Warrin'/Warren like G to regulate a theme and deem some sense of normalcy, to see some type of forest out the trees,
when the poorest man decrees, despite a lack of any mental faculties that this place is a desert.
It's like a communion wafer: bland and dry as fuck.
What's meaningful and interesting about it comes from complacency and the imaginative, yet unrealistic connotations we assign to it,
but despite all that, you find yourself awake in the middle of the night, tucked under the covers of a strange bed, thinking about that bland, flavorless thing... and you get hungry.
Goddamnit,
Track Name: Stegosaurus Heavy
Man, I don't think they ready, yo, they never used to get me, now, they want a verse so bad these dudes'll beg me,
we heavy like a pregnant stegosaurus on this chorus, check my corpus, kid, I'll be a corpse before I'm forced to fork and put a cork in it. Sports night, Aaron Sorkin it, the porch light's blaring more, insist I won't divorce the course until I'm bringin' home the porky pig,
singin' tomes that's portly big, it's dorky, but they dig it, I'm a Yorkie fighting orcs, compete resourcefully to stick there,
unfairly tried to battle me, but like Jeremy and Natalie, we got together better set to sever all this prattle,
if you heard/herd my words like cattle to your auditory cores, than you know I ride the beat until my cheeks get saddle sores,
speaking addled metaphors that more than sting your pores like nettle, we've been movin' from aluminum to hi-ten heavy mettle, bevvy kettles bustin' devil necks when all the dust is settled, you should trust this musty brother 'cause he's on another level, motherfucker

This shit comin' through the speakers sounds sweeter than a child of mine,
I'm itchin' to rap so give me tracks or calamine lotion,
I've been sippin' on the potion, but to be frank, my flow's wetter than the ocean.
You second that emotion? I'm better than emojis,
a veteran, I've ended more men/min than hochi,
more men than Utah or you saw in Sochi,
before men like George, I grilled them with low heat,
heat like the Gobi, deep like Moby -- Dick, I'm an allstar pick like Kobe, the black mamba, I'm tight --sike/Syke-- Wanda,
I'm hot Vivica Fox with thoughts, Vivekananda,
you know that swami who taught the Vedanta ehh... that's a stretch like a Hyundai Elantra
with four more doors and a fridge full of Fanta,
I'm bored/board like floors so I made this song while I watch on TV more 'E' than Honda,
more 'E' than Cummings,
more 'E'/Maury than Povich,
More 'E' than Z-mac, like Lezak, my flow is wet,
stay fresh like Fetts with new armor, ya dude been the best since Luke was a farmer

Man, I'm too on a roll to stop,
I'm colder than a Polar Pop, filled with ice and cola to the top then dropped in holes with blocks
that's frozen Minnesota flows, my prose is finna blow the spot,
my lake effect will take effect, don't make a bet the snow will stop,
take my records to the shows and they're a scary home companion, been in tape decks from Lake Wobegon to parries roamin canyons, combin' stand-ins to the throne I own with no plans to abandon 'till it's just me here with two musketeers and three beers for D'Artagnon,
our demands in hand, we'll span the land, adding fans like ampersand, tamper with the master plan, you take your ass to pasture, fam,
actors lacking practice, packing wackness ever faster man,
you're grabbing pens and pencils when your credentials are a buss pass,
you did to rap what Hitler did to Charlie Chaplin's mustache,
Is this Carly Simon rhymin'? If you're gettin' dap, then fuck that,
I'll slap these cats so hard their backs'll bend and touch their nutsacks, Trust that.
Track Name: Anatomy Of An Art
The way I scrawl is like Roald Dahl on Adderall, I never stop writing exciting chatter to yap at ya'll,
I'm a top titan whose bladder's fatter than basketballs, about to piss life on the track, you're wack after all,
matter of fact, you slackers need rap catheters, capture the night black of the rapture with wide apertures,
the mind scavenger, blind badger, but savager, get lemons and limes then spit 'em as rhymes back at ya,
when I'm attacking the callouses of my memory, I silence the hordes with broad swords of emery,
my violence is towards this odd sort of enemy,
my style is absorbed in the caution that's gotten in to me,
so when I emcee, you don't wanna see what I pretend to be,
the real me feels these pressures to the nth degree,
in every measure I treasure this mental injury,
for your pleasure, I put imagery where the pencil be,
and I got a pad of paper where my heart is,
the raw part of this art is catharsis,
it's a test, when I reach into my heart and grip parchment,
I don't skip a beat, I east, sleep and march in

I am observably known to be prone to verbal hyperbole,
urgently flip wordy lip-service, purposefully merging these
versions of a nerd in a dirty corner of urbanry with Hercules, servin' emcees 'till they bleed burgundy,
you heard of me? I earned a degree from a university,
now, I take turns in a three person insurgency,
working in my breaks to create passionate perjury, 'cause faces get classic in wake of plastic and surgery,
so murder these assumptions, I'm jumpin' over the actual,
I took a lumpy dump on the facts, tacitly tactical,
actively repackage these brackish waters as magical oceanic habitats, my rabbit hat's compatible with saline,
I screen the days' scenes through baleen, votin' like I just turned eighteen,
display potent ray beams made out of dreams that supersede the verbatim,
in a stupor form my stupid need to make 'em,
from the pubis to the sacrum, real shit resonates like a bass drum,
say something that'll make 'em spray cum,
so what if I exaggerate it's a tad late to be my magistrate,
the masses match a maker with his fate,
mate great like a pair of socks, a yacht in a dry dock or a chain and a fifty tooth sprocket,
Herbie Hancock, I'm set to rock it/Rockit, the opposite of a pop hit, your loss if you pause to talk shit,
motherfucker

A Freudian slip is the only trick to get to me, otherwise, I vividly spit revisionist history,
you lividly witness me, covered eyes and mystery, smothered by the lies that other guys dismissively cast off,
as you wait to shake the past off, I create fakeness, complacent with half-thoughts,
at-cost, diluted to a quarter of reality, malleable alleys of a moment, own it and now you see
it's all a fleeting feeling, revealing meetings with pain and pleasure, dealing with the music of life, measure by measure,
whatever the ledger tallies, I rally to play the point, the gallery, they anoint, disjointed representation,
stay patient, latently waitin', hydratin' to make it grow,
take it slow, I sow seeds you needn't know,
I weed 'em to show, below the heavens, over the earth, the sober can thirst for birth from the road of the cursed,
unloaded, but irked that jerks work seldom seen,
withheld means from some 'till ends become clean
Track Name: Nice Cream feat. DaDadoh
I think I'm seeing stuff up in this Cheeba Hut, if you don't know what's up than I suggest you turn the speakers up,
loud as fuck, or loud enough for you to hear it,
Wu-Tang grooves came, Sube brang lyrics,
so basically I'm sayin' random shit to sandwiches,
amateurs can't handle this, I'm shinin' like an amethyst,
rhyming doing damages, I'm hotter than a pan of grits,
but colder than an Otter Pop, I'm squattin' on a potty droppin' plot twists, botch this, you'll never hear my name again,
my belt got notches from strangling the game he's in a zone,
up in Valhalla, where the gods rest,
plod heavy, semi-precious metals on my broad chest,
contest winner, got a kettle full of dinner tea,
on level with divinity, been settled in a trinity,
but every single entity, enemy or friend of me is 'bout to feel the punishment my pen is finna send to these people,
as I reach towards fate when I say this,
spit dank, no shake, First Take, Skip Bayless,
yo put me on your playlist,
I do this every day, kid

<DaDadoh's verse>

Yo, this wack rap's a tangent, back to the focus,
my raps eat beats like a locust,
I spit quality, haters take notice,
got any wack rhymes? Not me, --go fish
I got my own niche, in this so-called life,
I battled strife, but I came out all right,
I'm up all night, rappin' in the moonlight,
I never doubt myself even though you might,
think that I lack the skills and abilities,
but I keep it real even if you not feelin' me,
and I'mma aim high until I hit the ceiling, B,
D-Suber '91 to infinity,
you will remember me
Track Name: Estate feat. DaDadoh & Ricky Smash
Rockin' kicks as I'm walkin' in this metropolis, adoptin shit --George Popadopoulis
ballin' like I'm Popovich, you ballin' 'cause your papa's rich,
poppin' tags, shoppin bags gripped,
lips brag out a list of the niche band names, but I don't hear it,
'cause I'm thinkin' 'bout band names, man came in to this world naked, with a fig leaf, leave with a snake skin,
kinda like Jake did, rake in the makes for a new sleek,
estate looks like a boutique,
hate to lose sleep, but you up 'till the moon eschews peak in the sky to reside down beneath,
under the horizon, found a new tie to look fly in, disguise eyes by hidin' inside shades,
ridin' the tide wade through the surf in a perfect representation of earthenware, obsessed with occasions,
blessed from a page in the book, get dressed just to look the same ways that they say when we pay them,
plantation, slave man got us pickin' Ray Bans,
through their eyes, the world stays tan,
we're all cannibals, standin' in animals, buy clothes 'till the wardrobe's full,
no bull, your pulpit is your presence, we preach image, every room that you step in is a scrimmage,
what?
Track Name: Alphabet Souperman
I am alphabet souperman/Superman, Cal El/L-M-N-O-P,
just a melanin-skinned fella delvin' in linguistically,
the twenty-sixes on my whip consist of shapes from 'A' to 'z' of which I choose to mix and flip like crepes to relate what I see to people,
using equal parts of pictures plucked from Tempe windows, and the bitter bits tucked in-between my lust for buxom bimbos,
I spin rosy-scented, pensive prose that's penned through broken lenses
'till my tinted sins distend and bend, resembling Roquentin's disgust, mistrust with viscous sickness thrust at flickers of existence,
just a trace, ups the pace, makes my heart's pistons' pumping quickened,
blood is thick and ink is thin, that's what I'm thinking when I'm writing, so I blend the two to make it true, yet fluid and exciting,
cake with icing, make mistakes in life, my vices need revising, as I sit wide awake, too high to shake the messages that I've seen,
plagued by vestiges of Pleistocene greens beamed into my daydreams,
of a static life, arrested progress, objects, watching waiting,
baiting me to invest in this quixotic quest towards esoteric essence, where the lessons learned are less discernible when told as testament,
regressed to pesky pestilence, anecdote, not evidence, a manic quote, an Escher print, infected by subjectiveness,
bless the Kents, but I'm convinced their wrecking my effectiveness, these sentences aren't meant to sit or fit with your directive,
flex my methods 'till perspective shifts, drifting toward a synthesis, intently piss on bridges, dropping digits for the dissonance, 'cause you can win at this with inventiveness or lose with love like tennis,
I'm just stuck in this fruitless pursuit of a Lois Elaine Bennes
Track Name: The Weekend
Riding the lightrail with a heavy heart,
already steadily leveraged, part by bready beverage, bitter sting,
I sit alone a scribble things, with pens,
put petty art on parcels packed inside compartments,
of a bag I bring along on backs, I lag this sack of darts,
when spending time about, I rhyme it out, the finer points of life,
as I sit stuck atop the tracks, I jot one-liners that are tight,
anoint the white sheets with green splatters, leak what matters from the pen,
focused in on broken thoughts amongst the chatter and the din,
but don't get lost, 'cause in a minute, I'll get off, my stop is coming up, now thumbin' through a ton of stuff for number clues and money tucked,
it's funny how my funds abruptly disappear from pockets,
as I run the floor to walk through doors towards Phoenix city blocks,
kid feeling less than cocky, ought to know the address of the rock show,
if I had a map, I'd be a bit less agitated, got those chilly sweats just like gazpacho on my skin, but in the nick of time,
I see a friend by the liquor store, my Friday night is back on line

Feels like I'm jumping out the gate quicker,
life is short, take a picture,
back in the day, I used to hate liquor,
now I take shit straight, can't wait for the chase,
hit 'em with the proof to the face,
lookin' for a roof to get raised, uncouth in my ways, young youth in group, finna stay
with a one-two punch, get drunk, don't play, as we run through punks, don't want none, we say,
"Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go! Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!"

At time 'X', my mindset is too real to swerve, as I approach the curb with fuckin' nerves of Steel Reserve,
I feel perturbed, do I deserve this type of treatment,
too preoccupied with wipin' eyes to stop and great the cement,
toppled from my seat, feet went down to the ground, bound to repeat scenes of a clown,
my brown flesh scrapes the street, and it comes up red, they're all laughin',
my ship calls back to it's captain, asking me, "what happened?"
--same shit, couple sips had me slackin,
is it bad? I think I need an aspirin,
or maybe ibuprofen, I'm hopin' that my arm's not broken,
alarmed by the blood in the road,
maybe I should go, or at least get out of traffic,
load my stuff back in my pack, shit's real, I could have died,
won't always be this lucky when I'm fucked up,
Saturday, youngin' doin' dumb stuff

Feels like I'm jumping out the gate quicker,
life is short, take a picture,
back in the day, I used to hate liquor,
now I take shit straight, can't wait for the chase,
hit 'em with the proof to the face,
lookin' for a roof to get raised, uncouth in my ways, young youth in group, finna stay
with a one-two punch, get drunk, don't play, as we run through punks, don't want none, we say,
"Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go! Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!"

It's another under the weather day, I'm cloudy-headed, heather grey, had a rowdy night and regretted it, I'd better stay in bed a bit,
more complex than Oedipus, this session of depression hits,
I'm pressed against a precipice, just stressin' watching seconds tick... killin' Father Time,
I seek to lay with Mother Earth while other persons perch above me, what could love be, but a way to work and jerk me from this cubby,
I'm in a spot that's dark and muddy, but I'm not your buddy, stop it, feeling comfy in this dumpy plot, upshot is not the topic,
be myopic, life is caustic, I'm agnostic 'bout the causes,
feeling lost amongst these toxins as I opt to take my pauses,
when the gauze is stripped from wounds of life, at noon, I will rise rested,
it's a boon, a trifle vested in this next unit of wretchedness,
catchin' bits of football on a Sunday in October,
finding solace in the smallest shit as I sit in bed hungover

Feels like I'm jumping out the gate quicker,
life is short, take a picture,
back in the day, I used to hate liquor,
now I take shit straight, can't wait for the chase,
hit 'em with the proof to the face,
lookin' for a roof to get raised, uncouth in my ways, young youth in group, finna stay
with a one-two punch, get drunk, don't play, as we run through punks, don't want none, we say,
"Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go! Friday, Saturday, Sunday, go!"
Track Name: Grim Reaper
Got a joint with ten songs and it's all Kim Jong Il/ill, I've seen down stems of bongs that aren't as dope as I feel,
the rap game did me wrong so it's something I had to kill, now, I'm on death row, eating emcess for my last meal,
I'm gassed for real, I'll pass the mic when the senate passes a bill that doesn't benefit jackals and backers on capital hill,
tackle each verse like a raptor with a Pterodactyl to capture, get tactile response from the rafters as I chase after it,
use impractical fonts for the words I place haphazardly in a stew with herbs de provence like a synesthetic masterpiece,
laughter ceases after beats are shredded, causing casualties, you're indebted to my legacy like Mott's to Johnny Appleseed,
fetted foes with diuretic flows, my kinetic presence never slows, in essence acquiescin' bits of sentences and flexin' prose,
stretchin' 'till the catch their toes, lines bow and form parabolas,
stone tablets full of babble rousing rabble off of half a buzz, like...

I don't know what's real no more, verses the artificial, I'm hard as nickel when I carve a throat with my sickle. the grim reaper of rap, deeper in blood and gristle, I'll turn a river of life into a muddy trickle

I'm a man-child with a wild style, my ways are Will Ferrell/feral,
spend days in womens' apparel, spittin' pagan Christmas carols,
I'm an isthmus betwixt two disparate land masses,
in a sea of doubt, I stand on sand as your ship passes,
grand monolith, my lips are chapped from salt showers,
stone tower spits raps at all hours,
with the sour taste of power on my tongue, it's a tough meal to stomach, but I've been lame for too long to run from it,
bring callous to pumice, I etch my name angrily on the summit, Alice of Wonderland served rum with their crumpets,
switch trumpets for trombones, the lonely-heart king of the half-tones, bring a knife to a gunfight at Zap Zone,
my life's unhinged, but I still contend like a Dennis Rodman stat line, prime Tiger Woods on the back nine,
what's cilantro with lime? Savant flows, winds chime when I rhyme, break down thoughts in my mind with enzymes

I don't know what's real no more, verses the artificial, I'm hard as nickel when I carve a throat with my sickle.
the grim reaper of rap, deeper in blood and gristle, I'll turn a river of life into a muddy trickle
Track Name: Pennies
With cash spent, I laugh 'cause I lack purpose, feelin' nervous, 'cause it's all so worthless

You can't be empathy friendly within the tensions of Tempe, tendin' to trend towards envy amidst my friends in their twenties,
I sit with plenty of pennies minted in years gone by, as if my century's sent me these cents to sear my thighs,
near my side reside these copper chips, opposite of proper fit,
meltin' through my hips like they're hot drips of chocolate,
looking for a slot to stick, but always slip away,
dropped houses, caught in couches, all about is where I stay, days wallowed in my squalor, scrape dirt from a shirt collar,
I should run/Run like that reverend from Hollis,
my brethren acknowledge all this, black-balled 'cause we lack polish, is it only cool to slack off in college?
Yeah, but to back off a small bit is to sit and admit that you're not shit, not special, not different, not it,
illegitimate pick to permit your me to proceed through a parapet, pal, get with the program or quit,
man I trip out at times at how I find that nickels and dimes line designed fabrics as I get left behind,
a maverick benign, flagship of the average, kids pine for a chance to become the divine,
while some are inclined, the rest wind up as bitter, faux-go-getters, stuck as parents of a life with no sitter,
inherently rife with low vigor, slow rigor mortis is creepin' in,
I'm sleepin' 'till the weekend begins,
lens pinned on the death of a dream deferred, star beams observed, what we are seeing's only what they were,
but I walk un-erred or unconvinced that the value of one pence is sinkin', 'till we ask where it went,
Lincoln, what were you thinking?

With cash spent, I laugh 'cause I lack purpose, feelin' nervous, 'cause it's all so worthless

Dag nabbit, I'm trapped in these bad habits,stay static like buck stuck in traffic,
my luck passes, rapidly, waning, the tragedy gains strangling the mangled remains, my brain's hanging,
dangling in the balance, advent of this stagnant type silence was a day clad in cap and a gown,
my class packed in a brown, round, arena to sound joy at the scene of the peak, before it all goes down,
we ignore what we seek until it calls to be found,
I'm appalled to be bound by indecision, that N.V. --no vision
black sheep, but I feel like a pigeon,
stuck in a hole that I live in or slowly die in, wishin' I didn't buy in to what I that was a given was only lies,
caught inside a box where my options are tied between decisions I'm proclivin to despise,
uh huh,
they told me follow your heart, but my heart led me to party,
swallowing beers in the park, as I regret what I'm starting,
never get dressed 'till it's dark, do you expect me to win?
Tryna de-stress, but it's hard, I don't know where to begin,
it's been unbearably grim, the odds are slim that I'll make it,
it's kind of scary to swim in a tank of sharks when you're naked,
you can't compare me to them, they think I'm smart, but I fake it,
I'm living life on a whim, I act like nothing is sacred,
you think it's art, but it isn't, you think I'm deep, but I'm shallow,
you think I planned, but I didn't, and yet my output is hallowed,
be my name, I excite when I write plainly at night,
I play the game in a way people say that they like, but without the same fight,
I'm so broken, go slow through the motions, thinkin', "'change', now that's a strange notion",
so I remain loafin' on a porch or a corner, open pints of a porter horded in hands like vice grips,
I'm tryna go on Amazon and order some nice shit,
are there more of you like this, amidst a quarter-life crisis?

With cash spent, I laugh 'cause I lack purpose, feelin' nervous, 'cause it's all so worthless
Track Name: O's and X's (acoustic remix) feat. Clipper
She went from dirty girl, to dirty bitch, to me, she was the world, to her, I wasn't shit,
though I must admit, she broke me without stones or sticks, the apple of my eyes had me fiendin' for them supple lips,
which I never kissed, am I a masochist?
a sucubis, she had me whipped until my whole perspective flipped, see I was just a friend, and I could never win while she expressed with other men, desires that I felt within,
for her, I lived in sin, akin to some satanic deal,
known to lie, cheat and steal for something I would never feel,
I should have kept it real, in line with my nature,
she changed me in the worst way and for that, I used to hate her,
but time and hindsight worked in her favor, and my memories of fair and foul are now neighbors,
so it's hard to separate the happy from the blue, when I reminisce over you, it's true,
god damn

spend a day with the young and the sexless, my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
and shit gets hectic, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
now, I'm a member of that Villainous collective, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
so I elect to accept the perspective that my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's

See, I'm a man of thought and not a man of action, so I'm thinkin', I should ask her out, but then nothin' happens,
and past defeats have led me to expect a bad reaction, so I hide behind my windows when I could be out there mackin',
I've been slackin' out of fear, and this attitude has got me stuck,
I say that I don't give a fuck, but really, I don't live enough,
my steely front is just a bluff, when times are tough, I've given up,
I've dropped the ball, I've missed the cut, my favorite words are if and but
... but, change isn't easy, believe me, despite what you see up on the T.V.,
I know it might sound cheesy, but up 'till now, I wasn't living life in the 3-D,
so now I wonder like Stevie, will my cheri amour be a whore who's gonna leave me?
I guess I'll never know if I don't try and that's why all these girls have been passin' me by, like...

spend a day with the young and the sexless, my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
and shit gets hectic, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
now, I'm a member of that Villainous collective, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's,
so I elect to accept the perspective that my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's

See if I called you, would it be a sign of weakness?
Maybe so, but I done spent too many nights sleepless to give a fuck,
so listen up, you should peep this, I'm in my room pacin', heart racin' like the Preakness,
see, I miss you, girl, and it's hard to accept it, but your grass looks so goddamn green from this perspective,
my thoughts are infected, corrupted, defective, with visions of you like my mind was incepted,
see I'm hurtin', and while you're not my perfect version of a person, this bullshit I'm livin' with is infinitely worse than our relationship,
my fuckin' happiness, you've taken it, I'm wakin' up, achin' in my soul and I hate it, bitch,
wish I could switch, this way that I'm feelin',
if I saw you as the villain, it would make you less appealin',
but dealin' with these issues is kinda complicated,
and memories have faded in the year since we dated,
it's weird, I'm feelin' both naive and jaded,
I was sad to see you leave, but your actions demonstrated that you wanted to achieve a level of perfection,
and I was down to settle if it's in the right direction,
so now, here's the question, are you still that same idealistic freshman?
'cause I know we're bound to see some bad weather, but I'll share my umbrella 'cause I wanna stand together with you,


so spend a day with the young and the sexless, my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's, and shit gets hectic, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's, now, I'm a member of that Villainous collective, but my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's, so I elect to accept the perspective that my love life has got no 'O's, just 'X's