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above, below - fly in my soup lyrics
verse i
hot d-mn, roxanne roxanne
i rock with bands up in the bricks up in a b-boy stance
you need to read more math, wait that’s a decoy laugh
ha ha, now here’s the stats, we’re bringing the world tour back
i’m tearing mics to pieces, like i’m tearing up your thesis
now we’re back up on the street, i’ll ride the beat until it ceases
or until you get your weight up, hold up, wait up
waiter – there’s a fly in my soup
he said “now what did you expect, an octopus?”
i spilled the soup down his shirt then i knocked his tooth
see i’m not just ruthless, truth is i’m hardcore
not appropriate for your nieces, rough, rugged and raw
verse ii
just then the toothless waiter took the platter with the pate
swung it around his head, i grabbed some bread in self defense
crashed down on the table, knocked the salad in my lap
i threatened him with a crouton, i’m moving on, he’s moving back
down the half deserted alleyways with oyster sh-lls or shall we say
couldn’t cover the tab, gave all my clams to sally mae
with what to show for it? a piece of paper? i need some new socks
at least i can write some rhymes with subtle references to prufrock
threw on my blue-blocks, i seen my man from venice beach
cops in pursuit, oh what the hoot, we free styled in the street
lights flash and sirens sound, sights showed cops was all around
somebody shouted orders on my knees i’m getting down
verse iii
police brutality, no doubt it be, my shoulder finally reset
from behind the bars i sn-tched the keys with ease i used the baguette
i’d wielded as a weapon, deadly? possibly, it wasn’t fresh and
could probably break a bone if i had thrown it in aggression
with trepidation left the station, seen some brothers from the nation
gave them a pound then looked around a crisp breeze gave the impression
that i was being followed, a lump in my throat i note then swallow
hid in the theater across the street, check the name “the apollo”
paint the picture like frida kahlo, it was show time in no time
lets go find some place to hide, i slid in the first door i see
like miss dorothy, i’m thinking there’s no place like home
unless you have a house guest, yeah, you guessed it…sinbad
verse iv
it was maybe 30 seconds, felt more like an eternity
not sure if it was courage, or just a sense of urgency
emerging from the diaphragm i tried to stand and speak
utter a couple of phrases to get the people off their feet
see i can rock a beat, but never that punchline rhyme and flow
thought to myself i ought to know that joke i heard not long ago
boos, they’re getting louder, move the crowd this was my emphasis
or move myself, oh scratch that plan, they’re blocking all the entrances
in instances like this to buy some time i give the run around
put the mic up to my mouth and stuttered “have you heard the one about
the guy who went to dinner and found the fly up in his soup
the waiter said ‘what do you expect so cheap, come on, an octopus?’
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