Fuckhiphop! feat. Mach Spitz & Grant Livesay [Rhyme Circus Winter Special]
Channel: Rhyme Circus
Date: 2014-03-24

Vocals by Marcus Carab, Mach Spitz & Grant Livesay. Music by Emtee-L.
Free album download: http://marcuscarab.bandcamp.com/album/rhyme-circus-winter-special-ep

Lyrics (partial):

Hold onto your hats kids 
This gonna be tactless 
Rappers getting weary 
putting theory into practice 
smack this up into a better tier 
up into the mesosphere 
rap is reinvented by my presence here 
seven year itch on the back of the master 
pitching from the stitches to the back and the catcher 
i'll be sitting shiva when the track is remastered 
like fuck hip hop, you magnificent bastard 
up in your system like my name was the password 
DJ with a hard drive, here to raid your archives 
marcus is a far cry from your average barfly 
think you got it figured out? well let's hear it smart guy 
dark side tightrope balance is precarious 
think you're making magic but there's malice in your fairy dust 
and still it isn't scaring us, not enough to bury us 
is that shit your best shot? because that's fucking hilarious 
- and I can carry us straight to the heat death 
of the universe i am weightless, don't need breath 
i exhale verse, eat words and I bleed hooks 
wondering if other emcees can even read books 
if he want a battle on the fly i know he's cooked 
I stared a muse in the eye - and she shook 
i know you're confused but just try to relax 
because we're doin this like brewin moonshine out back 
i'm pursuing you blind but i'm right on track 
you'll be moving through phases, i'm glued to your gazes 
i know, the truth often amazes 
but i'm not one to have faith with no basis 
i'll put my money smack dab where my face is 
if it seems tasteless try to contemplate this 
if you knew you was who was setting all the pedigrees 
who would you bet on? y'know, hypothetically 

this is a whole new kind of vision that I'm setting free 
this is a whole new kind of demon that's besetting me 
this is the meaning and the truth of what a dreamer see 
making the scene look like it's chewing on the scenery 
this is the world encompassed in a word for all to see 
this is a whole new kind of global hip hop policy 
this is unstoppable it's hopeless no escaping free 
this is a crazy huge explosion overtaking me 

I got a rep, yep, and i'm'a straight perpetrate it 
Fun times and gun rhymes And sometimes x rated 
Crumb bums with down thumbs, I'm used to being hated 
No likes from tykes for the hype we've created 
But that's ok, cuz I'ma keep dropping tracks 
And wack jacks in backpacks can tell me to relax 
But I'm a shark son the dark one the fish you don't poke 
Jaws on the stage, grab a cage or get broke 
Folk croak non-stop "yer shit's in the pawnshop" 
While I'm rocking lawnjobs and waitin for the bombdrop 
Rom-com wrecker with the spoilers 
Way before my time like the oilers in 82 
And I'ma say to you "yer tripping" 
Wack sadsacks meet the mad jacks, we rippin 
Throats yanked, tongues planked and mounted 
Young wankers stand up and be counted 

here we go it's round two it's down to 
the count and the ground-view 
the crowd that surrounds you's 
about to get a little hit of Marcus Carab 
heartsick struck by the marksman cherub 
and darkness scare 'em 
one kick put you past sputnik 
lug like a drumkit 
would you have thunk it? 
battleship? sunk it 
bullshit? debunked it 
fast gear? cranked it 
last beer? drank it 
thanks kid 
that shit 
really hit the spot 
now gimme what you got 
can't stop me 
I'm jimmying the lock 
straight from the top spot 
this is marcus the demmagog 
a-k-a m-d-c don't get it wrong 
but we can get along in time i suspect 
if your style can admit that mine is the best 
formalize that, sign it in a tie and a vest 
i'll give you time to reflect, i think you'll find i'm correct 

fuck hip hop? 
why yes, we fornicate voraciously 
found ourselves fondling 
roundabouts cirque du soleil 
traipsing o'er syncopated tightropes 
a team trapeze act to spark a flash mob light show 
juggle verses with the finest of rhyme circus 
acrobatic larynx lurches 
for the loveliest of birds in 
peacock tail feather dresses 
perching stage-side with the fellas 
pigeon-hearted darlings for the daring 
and damn-well daunted 
haunted by these daughters born of hip-hop mantras 
emcee pitching a three-ring tent in Toronto 
elephant in the room fed off cilantro? plausible, 
but applause, cat calls, and faux pas 
appear a more probable cause 
spit fire fire eaters fueled by the fury and delirious 
queer but us clowns clown for serious, period. 
bleary eyed bastards like baboons to bananas 
and buxom funambulists fidgeting for fan service 
never shoot for Barnum sans a shot of baileys 
guest represent the RC til Emtee-L's beat is fading