Notebook
• Written by Dan-Ghostt
Dan-Ghostt's Notes
Jedi mind street light freestyle. His song uses a death note sample, a bunch of random thoughts here.
Im finna share so Im writing in this notebook,
I swear I hear the pages wylin out they so shook.
Look, ghostt about to drop some facts.
You live in an act, matter of fact, ill clear up this matter,
In two minutes flat. //
Fuck you and your dope look, fuck a facade.
They tell you that you standing naked in the eye of some god.
I take it as a lie, as a fraud, fuck everything you thought.
Fuck everything that we've ever been taught, //
History is written by the victors, so who wouldn't be bitter,
After so many wars that these shores delivered.
The death of brothers and sisters.
Embodiment of sin, a sinister figure lingers, working in the shadow.
Building bigger monuments after profits, merking every battle
The silhouette of death approaching lurking towards the cattle.
Just tales? But you haven't tattled? you look a bit too rattled,
Like a rat who flew out of his castle.
Break out of the your shackles, into the fractals.//
This is basic, the human minds a matrix,
In any way, shape or form that you try to face it.
You're faced with too many questions to answer
Dancing with tony danza, writing an infinite stanza.//
Do you really want to know what the nsa did,
What the nsa hid. The neva say anything clique.
Founded for the purpose, of security on surface,
satellites surround the earth, cover up the dirt in service,
Of the multi headed serpent,
Shooting propoganda currents
Fuck you and your servants.//
Your all seeing eye cant see into my mind,
Right now im riding the present waves, but im ahead of my time,
I cant tell the line between present days. So im shreddin the rhymes.
Presently designed to reverberate chimes, in the future stayin divine.
//
They asking, ghostt why you bringing this up.
Are you on shrooms, obviously i will be soon enough,
Writin these tunes, inside of my room, notebook intune,
Cresent blue moon, on the brink of june. calligraphic doom.//
Sick with it, death by ink, Imma stick with it,
Syndacite synching with the sickest lyricists who inhibit it,
Spitting written shit, ay beyond the limited, not permitted
By the industry but everything is permitted on the internet,
So fuck whatever limits set, nahh im not even finished yet,
set the limit to the outer brink, of ishtar sink,
and scrimmage it, this ia like popeye on spinach doing minute reps
You diminished, so step away, normal people aren't welcome today.
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About the Artist
Dan-Ghostt
Member since January 13 2014