Concept Of Thought Wake Up (feat. Ed Scissor)
[Verse 1: Illiterate]
It's just another day wasting change, trying to get to grips with this
Tipsy kids still spitting sick when his lips are stitched
If you're shit, you're getting binned quick
Like a bit of liqourice inside a Pick-n-Mix, I'm sick of it
Stop the bickering cause nobody is listening
And if you're whack you're gonna get snapped like a brittle stick
Penning raw, I'm forming a metaphor, clever draw
Concept of Thought, we're forever raw
See a severed corpse fall from the heavens' court
Man I beckon storms when I stand next to falls
It's the Devil's war, time to surrender
For crimes been committed and my mind's the offender
Slice of dementia, roll dying with a vengeance
Is it luck or is just divine intervention? Life is descending
Five dimensions collide when I light up a Benson
It's time for my meds soon
[Verse 2: Awfer]
I'm nothing special, in fact I'm a normal kid
That likes to write rhymes at night when I'm bored of shit
Bored of this, shitty little town I've been brought up in
If this weren't reality, I would have bought some wings
Strapped ‘em to my back and flown straight to where the border is
I ain't talking shit man, I'm raw like abortion is
Or torching an orphanage, I want more than this
Feeling boxed in like contortionists, my story is
I was born to spit, grab my sword and grip
I've got more to give, every thought I think is stored in this
Sstrange little brain of mine
My frame of minds' debating life, I ain't afraid to laugh, I ain't' afraid to cry
So raise your glass and I‘ll raise the mic
I wanna take hip hop to a greater height
And take pride in the way I write to the sky
All around the world to the stage and glide
[Verse 3: Frankie Stew]
I've been searching
Write my verse in third person, I'm learning
Time my life, I burn perspect
No one ain't perfect, working ain't worth it
And I worked that out on my day job, the rain drops splattered on my feet
I've learnt two things, you'll never find happiness for free
The other's undiscovered from the pattern in my speech
Just another case of matching my defeat
Trapped inside the scene if you're acting by the sea
Change your ways and I stay the same faith
Play the game and the day to make haste
Spray your name upon trains to make mates
If you crave the fame then it's basic
You gotta go against the grain, because the iller the written raps
The bigger the scene claps
C.O.T. , we bringing it back, so what? What?
C.O.T. , we bringing it back
[Verse 4: Edward Scissortongue]
Yo, it's just another day for rituals and routines
Another day of sunbeams and moonbeams on horizons, sights are too deep
Another day for peeps to populate streets
Another day for businessmen on tubes rocking a tie and a two piece
Another day to open my eyes, direct my sight to the skies
To see it's pissing down, man it's gloomy
Another day to think: ‘fuck work, make a call, pull a sickie
Sit in my pants and watch B-grade movies'
Another day to blaze skunk, another day to get drunk
Another day to eat junk, another day to make love
But that's it, if you reflect upon it honestly
I'm sick of all these deep and meaningful philosophies
Cause man was an ape, ape became man
Man became twats, whackness began, yeah?
God was a twat if he existed and that
Man I'm sick of all this deep evangelistical crap
Just another day for junkies to score their fix
Just another day for paedos to perve on kids
Just another day for Scissortongue to flip some scripts
Another day for Hollyoaks at half past six
Another day for every godforsaken clock to tick
Another day for semi-skimmed on my Weetabix
Another day to get my penis licked by some sleazy chick
Till I'm creaming jizz on her greasy tits
For real