FV: I want to be a dead person Nobody speaks ill of the dead I’m tired of being a being, I’d rather my memory live in your head. I’m passive, I’m inactive, my ideas are abstract and combative My friends and my family feeling like guinea pigs every time I throw a tantrum Impatient, invasive thoughts; are they coming from me are they coming from God? Vivisecting my brain like the fucker’s a frog No proof, inconclusive, so I am not wrong Is it that bad to be your gut’s gospel disciple, follow your heart in the fight like St. Michael? Is a suicide if I still speak my mind knowing you’ll give me the wall an the rifle? So fuck off, suck my dick. I got some Docs that you can lick. I know that you dig all of that fashy trash, so mack on my mass like an impotent Judas. I want to be a dead person Nobody speaks ill of the dead I’m tired of being a being, I’d rather my memory live in your head.

FV: Alright, alright. Mad late, I’m heading home from Herald Square Damn straight I hopped the gate; it’s only fair Spotting pigs on the platform, so I’m swerving around em Half an hour per transfer til the local gets there. Pass out near a puddle of piss I crash at Uncle ACE place till a quarter to six With the blue seat beneath me, that track herky-jerky Based in the face like a Thanksgiving turkey But I woke up; the whole thing’s fucked Your bootstraps is snapped, you’re shit out of luck. I’m cashing my chips, the top-tier is flush The deuce in my hand, your boy’s born to bluff I be my own boss, I bring the big bucks I put my foot down, I cop the new Chucks I’m pounding the pave, I pal with the pups I get off the grid, then blow the bitch up. FV, A, sTG: Dogwalker sipping on lean Uncle Sam wanna give me the teat sTG: all fat cats just fall back I got a flack stash to leave jaws slack I slap angels across the face for fast laughs Director telling me we’re entering the last act? Well shit, i’ve played stupid for shows and tours. I’m more than capable of sowing dissent raising throats to war, But saving the game never buttoned my dress before I stay under the gun like Reagan in eighty-one. Ain’t rocking paisley, but i’m a flower girl Tryina kick up enough buzz to power a world, ‘Cause I got flounder to fry. You guys are bad jokes Letting the fires run wild just ‘cause you want smoke? Well fuck a bullseye i’m tossing a wrecking ball Penetrating your stage lights like heckler calls. Actor you played right into the cup of my palm Hope it’s enough of a fall, i runneth over it all. FV, A, sTG: Dogwalker sipping on lean Uncle Sam wanna give me the teat SB: Seeing some delays on the A, C and E lines Ring of keys cause I’m gay And I’m feeding some felines Catch the Last A train cause I can’t plan well Ran out of stamina from sprinting the stairwell On welfare I don’t care I’m against wealth No healthcare I don’t care I’m against health No self care I don’t care bout my damn self Forever hard-headed Heathcliff with my ham self FV: Therefore, I get no rest The few fattest cats cash all of the checks Pull all of the strings and put you in debt And y’all buy the lies, respond with respect? Nah. Not me in NYC; I’m chilling, Milling round the block, waiting for the guillotine. Got a purple baby bottle if you know what I mean.

MR: I’ve got a headache from the blue screen Boss’s Putin calendar glaring Cog in the machine They call it “smooth sailing” FV: I’m in trouble now puffing on my bubbler Pray my manager doesn’t buzz my cellular Damn I’m smacked; if I call him back I’m positive I’m gonna have a panic attack Put my phone on airplane on airplane mode Bolt the door like no one’s home My brain is wracked with stress and pride My coffee’s black, my tummy’s tied so Fuck the Folger’s you’ve got in your cup I’m taking res hits for breakfast when I’m waking up, man. Fuck the Folger’s you’ve got in your cup I’m taking res hits for breakfast when I’m waking up Yeah! A: One more day, up and at ’em Mouth full of blood and battery acid What did I think was going to happen? The days go slow but the years keep passing. The days go slow but the years keep passing.

FV: Red leather, yellow leather I you wanna be a martyr baby, Just follow me. sTG: blame it on myself, yeah, ‘course i did face a lot of Ls, yeah, ‘course i did fourteen months trapped in the studio they’re asking me if i’ve got anything to show i guess besides that i’m still alive and checking on my people ‘cause we’re still deprived sabotage my health, yeah, ‘course i did sacrifice myself, yeah, ‘course i did FV: Ten-dollar words but I rhyme with economy Spouting broke shit with a dimebag inside of me Got a lotta thoughts that I kept in my head But I gotta get em out ’cause I’m feeling half dead I’m a motormouth motherfucker when I really wanna be Get it? Got it? Good. Gotta keep up with society Feeling pretty beat from the battle with the entropy Pissed that the 27 Clique didn’t take me Cause I’m just a poor boy, but somebody loves me Demure at the trigger ’cause I gotta be bigger, but I betcha I’d be better as a memory. ‘Cause I don’t wake up; I don’t do shit. Crash on the couch cause I can’t drag my ass ten feet to an actual bed I feel bad, no I’m not sad Llewyn off the beat, so I thought I needed sleep; now I know that it’s deeper than that. Fare thee well, oh honey Fare thee well. sTG: sabotage my health, yeah, ’course i did sacrifice myself, yeah, ’course i did getting high so i feel everything i’ve been low to the earth in a funk thunder clouds at the end of the month both pockets broken so thank god i’m young still cracking jokes ‘cause that’s how i cope turning to smoke when i’m deep in a slump my doctor told me estradiol makes my blood thicker so i can’t hit the blunt it’s a journey but it’s tough, five coins hit the table it stated my luck a cub in the ruins i’m covered in bruises let ‘em eat velvet my color’s the bluest ride out a wave, run from my grave, yeah ‘course i did kill my own kind, leave you behind, yeah ‘course i did FV, KR: Fare thee well, oh honey Fare thee well. I you wanna be a martyr baby, Just follow me. Gonna take a short walk off the GWB.

MD: A lot of shit going on last year, man Lot more shit going on this year Just gotta get these things off my mind A lot of blood last year, not enough love A lot of pain last year, not enough pleasure A lot of fears, lot of tears, not enough reasons To keep going for an extra measure Back in the day used to find treasure up in Central Park Now all I see are dead bodies on the sidewalk Eighth Avenue just ain’t the same without a dog’s bark Money on my mind ’cause I’m still unemployed Sleeping on the couch, stuck in the void Shoutout Freud, back in therapy Tryina figure out all the things making me annoyed Back fucked up, I’m a slouch One minute I’m cool, next thing I know I’m shit In a pinch, saltier than Lawry's and Adobo Feeling like David Lynch is driving me down the Lost Highway Without giving me the perfect drug And what I could really use right now is a hug sTG: XOs for my family handclaps for my cousin handshakes for my trans folks flips off for the fuzzes tongues out to you snowflakes cause your cold looks can’t freeze us come through to the show in Bushwick no cover like Yeezus i’m a trey chic Anastasia the quartet’s playing Bartok folk tunes for the stoop kids playing stupid to the cops my lips never loosen but i do sing to the crops gets a way better harvest these hoes never stop! don’t do pilates but got a booty body electric but sock it to me PRPL my PPL they flock to me, so i’m never alone like a schlock movie yeah. steady working on my backspring, bigger muscles in my backhand more money for the batmans means more problems for my trans ass, we outwit outplay outlast a squad of suicidal outcasts tryina pass through tryina out class. past due for a cat nap but i’m catwoman on nip, bitch i just borrowed your mom’s lipstick pack coneys like a warrior mermaids get the fishstick FC: Franco Fettucinni, miss me with that Alfredo If they’re telling tall tales, I’ll tell them if you say so Keep the cabbage clutch, yeah I’ve been on the payroll If I die I’m coming back Son Goku with the halo. Goku with the halo. If the situation switch, I learn how to lay low No after credits scene, so tell me whatchu wait for? Dope Francis bless the track, you get what you pray for Goku with the halo. Goku with the halo. SB: I stayed up all night Powered by powdered coffee and spite Can I be sure if I’m louder or right If I’m writing this wrong will they finish the fight About to tap out like a light Switch on a wall in a dream Wake up or I’m gonna scream Wake up or die in real life JD convinced me to take up the knife Susan convinced me to take up the pen Stryker I’ll read her again and again Incongruous parts my hospital charts My body my theory my head and my heart Inventing a story to try to explain The way that I am and the site of the pain What’s wrong with my body is wrong with my brain What’s wrong with my mind is wrong with my shape I’m treating the symptoms by hitting the vape

A: Everything I am I owe to Lizzie Grant, I love that bitch Changing personalities, Seven-Day Itch White girl with the red lipstick Got a pink vodka drink that’ll make me sick But that’s just these days, that’s just what comes easy ’Cause I’m a different person every other weekday Keep my faces filed neatly in a briefcase Stow away my breakdowns, keep ’em as a keepsake. FV: FYI, TBH IDC what you say TBD don’t you see We could die any day? Okay ladies, now let’s get information FOIA babes, doxx the ops that we’re paying Cause if we can’t change their minds to the time of the clav We’re gonna fuck the fuckin fuzz up up and down Haven Ave. Burn the bridges you resent from a distance We really get it litty if the shakers gonna listen Use your art as a cudgel, I’ll shoot my mouth as gloc You’re dropping names like the Fat Man, I tear it down from the top Cause if the godhead spake through mouthfuls of cake He couldn’t pull a poker face to convince us that he ain’t Is it a communist hoax? You motherfuckers got jokes But then your haha goes boo-hoo; my fist in your throat Somebody told me talk is cheap, so I invest in penny stocks Stringing my sounds and words around to combat all the poppycock Building my bars up beat by beat to light the fuse and blow the spot Maybe I’m a cherry bomb, but someone’s gotta pop it off So no shit I’m an optimist That’s why I’m sitting here bumping these Serpico hits Cause if I’m sucking exhaust or if I’m slitting my wrists I succumbed to the scum, signed and sealed em a win They wouldn’t be afraid if they believed that we were lazy They wouldn’t buy the papers if they thought that we were crazy The fuckers spend a fortune tryina keep the people down Then they sell us back the shackles just to subsidize their crowns So if you mack on amphibians for nefarious reason Y’all can’t act all appalled when the prince promotes treason Did you even stop and think of why the fucker was a frog? Why his reign was interrupted by a righteous act of God? Why then every little peck would tick the time toward twelve o’clock? Cause when the people aren’t united Toe-to-tits it falls apart SB: i put my heart and my head on the line all my parts come apart by design but we are what we eat a little death as a treat starved myself for breakfast that’s a bite-size suicide heart and my head on the line all my parts come apart by design but we are what we eat a little death as a treat fucked myself for breakfast that’s a bite-size suicide

FV: Johnny Four didn’t wanna be alive no more; couldn't’ bear to take another early shift up at the store. He hustled all those years but he always wanted more; he’d be gigging on the weekends, early crowds of three or four. Now every job’s a dead end if you never get ahead, and maybe if you dream of work you might as well be dead. ’Cause androids got electric sheep and no nightmares to dread, so they hire the automatons that don’t need to be fed. Now his messiah complex was not that complicated; homie hit the dip at thirty-three and then his shit got famous. Gave a scarlet letter to the shit that he was saying, but they put it in a book, flipped the script and then reclaimed it. But Johnny picked a bone ‘cause he’s a stickler for the rules, said “If Jesus was a person, then he’s just like me and you. There’s no special dispensation for the actions that we choose; he just thought for forty days and then the fucker gave up too. Said his daddy told him ‘why not?’ so he got to follow through, so bouncing out when shit gets hard is just what J would do.” He ran the math from A to Z and made two-column proofs. “Man my shit is so legit it’s just the smartest thing to do. One more shift and then I get to follow through.” Now nobody better never ever tell my Id what Johnny did, ‘cause I don’t ever trust that fucker what ideas get in his head. I don’t say this shit to shock or to scare you or amuse, I just figure someone’s gotta get across poor Johnny’s views. Johnny Four didn’t wanna be alive no more; had it up to here with this shitshow world. Took a twenty from the till for a forty and some rope; never one to be didactic, so he didn’t leave a note. Just a little Olde English and a swollen blue throat, and the piss pants his fam found him in, hanging, shrivelled and soaked. And I guess we count the trauma of his loved ones I suppose; it’s the fodder where us bottleneckers got to stick our nose. But someone’s gotta do it. Yeah, you gotta feed the beast. Man, you hate to see it but nobody’s losing sleep. Empathetic cause I’ve been there, but a body’s gotta eat -- and I’m finally feeling hungry, so I’d say I’m on my feet. I like to think about God. At least the concept of consequence, and how our love is our bond. At least a point of connection. I try to picture a pond that’s full of fish of all size; and no matter who dies, ripples come when they rise. You always sense a disturbance. It’s like a Roadhouse performance when you suddenly cry. I want to leave your eyes dry. With my actions I swear I’ll be better. I’ll follow the script to the T and the letter. Yes I am Frankie, but Teardrop I’m not. I swear I’ll survive to be Prince of the pond. Yes I am Frankie, but Teardrop I’m not. I swear I’ll survive to be Prince of the pond. sTG: so i’m standing here, chamber to my cheek, ‘cause it’s nothing but the worst dangers they save for the meek. ‘cause it’s no shiny angel gonna come walk through the fire with me, it’s just sparks through a wire. better chances dancing with the devil, bury your kids with a ransom note and hope you never see therapy. deep in a firetruck like my daddy’s a fucking failure if you ask me, might as well get buried up to my neck and left to the sea. yeah yeah, you’re telling me i’m too young to die and i get it but shit, if Johnny did it so can i... i suppose you could pick up a few shells on your way back from the beach, back to your home with stocked shelves heated pool massage seats. but when you look around at all the souvenirs newly lining your mantelpiece, clutching a drink in your hand i hope you think of me, there in the sand, and pray Poseidon doesn’t take pity on the weak. Pray Poseidon doesn’t take pity on the weak. FC: I stole a short you left on the porch, jesus wept in the court, irish goodbyes like a sport, you’d be bummed to know how low i stooped. She denounced the party. everybody’s here to denounce the party. Bummed out on unpublished berman poems repurposed into demos with all the killer lines redacted. Everything’s changing all the time and by the time you realize, it’s too late. if you die at the beach, then you die in real life. when you leave hit the lights, wavy while the ocean’s rising, no saints watching paint dry, so tell me whose life is alright and i’ll tell you who’s living a lie. I just want to be consumed by you. i want to be packaged, processed, stocked on a shelf and sold in a store near you. my medicine makes me the kind of person who smiles for no reason. watch as the witch burns in the rearview. Resigned to the fact that i’ll never make enough to retire, rewind to the days when i never needed reminders, my mind’s running late, can’t relate, how much time left? out of pocket, out of face, a marathon i run in place, out of sight, out of mind, out of space, out of time, out of fucks but i’ll be fine, what’s the harm in living just for one more night. what’s the harm in living just for one more night? what’s the... what’s... What’s good? good karma, good faith, good bye, good god, good book, good day, good mood, good moon, good the goods (got the goods. good looking, good looking out) good taste, the good life, good riddance, the time of your life. good boy, good girl, good person, good heart, a good head on her shoulders, good natured, good nurture. goodness gracious, good days, good faces, good long while, good for you, good for me, good for now, good for nothing. good thinking, good for your word, all good dogs go to heaven. good game, good show, good shit, good shot, good try, good as new. good winter, goodie two-shoes, good things come to those who wait, let the good times roll. all good things come to an end. good grades, good dreams, good ass job, good deeds, good reads, goodie proctor. good doctor. good one. good time, good fortune, good fun. good luck, goodnight, goodbye... What’s the harm in living just for one more night?