Nightmarish Vibes Video (MV)

Type of rapper that raps so hard
At the end of the bar's a dramatic pause
Daft folk asking me what my favourite brand is
Kalashnikov
Come around my street wearing supreme
You'll get your logo boxed off your head-top
I don't seek a space in a scene that's a buyers market
F*ck off, end of
To be honest i'm so sick of writing lyrix
But it's aw i've got to bide my time
With this shite existence
Oh your quite the cynic! I'm fine really
Just snide towards industries
That never helped us find a living
I've been cutting through this forest
For a decade with no vision
Hoping and praying i make it
Raking through the thicket
How far do you run into it
Till your running out
Probably would've stashed a grand by now
If i'd of kicked the snout
Right off a politician
Capitalist war pigs claim
The system they get rich off's just intrinsic
Human nature's pall bearers scripting hit-lists
To feed the autonomous weaponry on their wish-list
Oh f*cking hell
In occupied skies
Rivers run dry as the ocean rises
Living as hope dies
Can't see the forest for the fire now
Midas lies writhing eyes burning gold violence
Tridents fry continents to pure frost
And 3rd eye-sis dies and rots
Inside every foreheads frontal cortex
All resistance is framed with no context
Literal class war? Yes! And i've no got a plan yet
But as long as i've got scran and a bed
This challengers set to ramble
This potentially damaging lyrical stamina
Till the political establishments
Deathbed so come ahead, uh
Cos i've got nothing to lose
But the chains of course
And the governments too
Everday's so boring bruv what can you do
But dance in the ashes and hope for the youth
There's only so much you can grieve in a coffin
Fate's never open to interpretation
Incorporate metadata's dictation, i have no nation
States, Flowleteriat
Basically, complicated it is
An alien chases the payslip bitch
Debating if i change place equip tools
To be agrarian if the baseline shifts
Too quick
Gonna face real threats this century
The bait's set and the trap sells sex to me
Rain-check on the end of history
Still a vague spectre that haunts my memory

All that is solid will melt into air
The point is to change it not stress the details
Seizing the means thats a means to an end
Not the end in itself that begets you my friend
Whether hedonist heretic mentally desolate
Idle while working, cycles encircle
Circadian hurdles in this concrete jungle
Das Kapital damming the young animals
To dance in the quicksand
Of the savage neoliberal agitprop
All the worlds a stage wae tattoos on it's face
A hope we don't end it all
But it's not looking too great