CHORUS: (I just received this message): And it told me to, Come clean, address the scene, refrain from being a drama queen, Remain obscene, consume caffeine, and aim abuse at stupid teens. (That’s a weird fuckin’ message), But I’ll eat it up and take the cup, achieve the dream to run amok You know what’s up? The sky and stuff. But I don’t really give a fuck. VERSE 1:
 Awww shit, I think I’ve found my groove and flow again I'm back to tracked opinions, Rap and singing while I’m losing friends; But that’s the game, The only way I know, so live with it, And if my words offend you personally, Just know that I don’t give a shit. I’ve got this dream: A vision of me up above on the top while the others are dropped; Vicariously, I’ll be living the dream while you live on repeat in your bid for the top. Unanimously, I’ll be seen as the laziest G and a bit of a bit of a queen, And I’ll split from the scene just the second that the shit gets more real than me, And I’ll pack up and flee [CHORUS] VERSE 2: Man, you fucked up, Nate: You had the skills and let us down, And disappeared to sing that Rock ’n Roll all over town. And now you think you’ll just show up again and we’ll be down, Like every thing is fine? Cunt, you must be out your mind! You spent these years fostering a talent, Bringing up the praise to raise my confidence, And change me from a n00b and such. I guess this track is kinda dope but it’s just not enough To cut the rope I hung rap career with, It’s up in smoke. [CHORUS] OUTRO: Just wake on up and don’t waste your mind Reincarnate through the system of life Just wake on up and don’t waste your rhymes Reincarnate through the system of life Just wake on up and don’t waste your time Reincarnate through the system of life Just wake on up and don’t waste your mind Reincarnate through the system of life [TOTALLY UNWARRANTED HYPE RANTING OVER THE FADE OUT]

INTRO: Hey, I just thought I’d go a little beat poetry on this shit, And not that slam poetry bullshit that I can’t stand, Where people look like they’re having a fit. Nah, nah, nah, check it out: One take. This is it. VERSE: How come the world is the way it is? And how come people keep having so many kids that they can’t afford and shit? And even if you’re rich. Same question. How come this? ^ I’m pretty sure the worldwide production line is doing just fine. How come people go insane when they’re driving in the rain, And it’s like they stop even looking when they’re changing lanes? And I’ve got places to be and now I’ve gotta wait? I don’t give shit if your wife’s in labour or who you impregnate, ‘Cause I’m running late. How come I get distracted but shit that doesn’t matter? How come my head is so full of chatter? And how come I became a rapper? And how come I’m so paranoid that I can’t just enjoy the acceptance? If you click ‘like’ on this, I’ll definitely suspect it. How come I can’t understand myself sometimes? And how come it’s so fuckin’ hard to write thymes, For a beat that I’ve been sitting on for over three years? How come I’m out of beer? Also, how come I chose to expose my insecurity here? How come some find it hard while others find it easy? And how come life is either tough as fuck or kinda breezy? And how come the bad people rarely get what they deserve, While the good are left behind on the ground, choking on the dirt? How come I couldn’t sell one copy of a free digital download? How come I refuse to promote? Is it my ego? Am I just afraid that if I try with all my might that I’ll fail, And then I’ll know for sure that my teachers were right? Maybe. How come I’m the one who’s crazy, Just ‘cause I actually say these things, That run through my hazy, drunk daydream? And how come a conversation with yourself is totally fine, If you keep it in your mind and just choose not to vocalise? See, it’s a thin line between sanity and the plastic sheets,
But how come? Is that the way it’s meant to be? Well, what about me? ‘Cause people like us are only half-together half the time. Like, imagine if this was a soapbox rant and not a rhyme. How come you’re even listening to this? How come you give a shit? How come One Direction and Zayn get so many hits? And how come the music industry is so obscenely corrupt? And how come Iggy Azalea’s a thing? I mean, what the actual fuck? How come it’s all about sex appeal rather than talent? I mean, this scene used to be banging’ so someone tell me what happened. How come people get worked up about what other people like? And how come The Second Child got a right to diss successful types?

VERSE 1: Religion is a cancer on humanity’s soul, Yet another way to ensure that people do what they’re told. It’s just another way for the rich to keep all the people in check, And ensure that everyone is willing to risk their necks, For the unseen, abstract concept of ‘right’, Without which, a war would be much harder to fight, ‘Cause, you see, without religion their would be much less, Motive to storm an embassy with a bomb on your chest. It’s just a fucked up, obsolete way to view the world; An incomplete, incorrect perception of Earth, And ain’t it fucked up the way that it attributes little worth, To homosexuals and women from the moment of birth? It’s about time we make a law against pulpits, And preaching, and bibles, and evangelical bullshit. We need to make a law against organised belief. We need to jail every imam, pastor, rabbi, and priest. CHORUS: It’s just a nuisance that we all need to learn how to ignore, It causes trouble, But it’s okay ‘cause I’m here to settle the score. VERSE 2: So from the Vatican to Sharia Courts, These hypocrites need to practise all the shit that they’ve taught, And they oughta live the lives they’ve prescribed to the people: Living in poverty, paying tributes to the steeple. No matter your denomination, it’s all the same, Catholics, Mormons, Muslims, man, they’re all as insane, As the Wiccans, Baptists, Buddhists, Raelians, and UFOlogists, And those nutty motherfuckin’ maniacal Scientologists. The Hindus and Jews are no better than you, The only discernible difference is the God that they choose, And yeah, they know their texts inside out when they preach, But fuck, so do all these nerdy fantasy geeks. Well, there’s a thought, why not quote Gandalf or Kirk? ‘Cause there was just as much wisdom in Tolkien’s words, And these Trekkies seem to do alright without starting wars, And at least there’d be no chance of ever believing it all.

 [CHORUS]

CHORUS: Hands off, hands out, now get your hands up And shows us with your hands that you give a what Yeah, Nathanael Marc is back, You’re gonna react to the fact that he straight mack this track Hands off, hands out, now get your hands up And shows us with your hands that you give a what Whether you do or whether you don’t, Gimme some rope and man the phones, Led Zep! Where’d my beat go? Hands off, hands off, just keep your hands off, I’m trying just to set my plans off: I’m trying just to prove my ability, And make it in this industry, While straddling the character and real me. Keep your hands back and out of my beats, And keep your hands off my imagine and my lyric sheets, And keep your hands back and get ‘em outta my mind, There’s no deeper, subtle meaning hidden in my rhymes. Nope. Keep your hands off my DVDs and LPs, And keep your hands off my poly bags and plastic sleeves, And keep your hands off my dick, ‘Cause I can jerk it just fine, With some mood music, candles, and a fine wine. Keep your hands off this and keep your hands off that, Keep your hands off canines and keep ‘em off cats, Keep your hands off thin and keep your hands off fat, Keep your hands off rock, bitch, and keep ‘em off rap. [CHORUS] VERSE 2: To the government, all those purveyors of lies, Keep your hands off my paycheque and outta my pie, This shit is mine, right? Mine. I work nine-to-five, It’s already hard enough to stay above the line. Keep your hands off healthcare, I mean, I’m doin’ fine, But one day I’ll need it to remain alive. Keep your hands off junk and keep your hands off the pipe, (Keep your hands out my business, man, I’m living’ life). Keep your hands off my front door and knock with a risk, I won’t greet with open palms but a balled up fist, And keep your hands off my heart and keep ‘em outta my soul, I’ll think about religion when I’m dyin’ or old. So keep your hands off science and keep your plans to yourself, Creationist nutcase, you’re bad for my health, And keep your hands off history and keep ‘em off facts, Keep your hands off dinosaurs and step back. [CHORUS]

CHORUS: I am that I am, can’t you just understand, That these hands were instrumental in dividing the sands? I’m just a man, nothing more, nothing less, But in jest, I profess to possess powers of greatness. [X2] VERSE 1: Hey, hi there, it’s Nate, a freakin’ lyrical sage, A fuckin’ bombshell, churning out the words off the page. I’m here tonight, my duty is to help you to learn, So you’ll understand my verse is worth a thousand words. We’re in the rhymer’s age, Approaching the end of days, So it pays to pray your demons away, ‘Cause I’m the second coming of Christ, the humble and nice, And you couldn’t start a Reich with a cause and a mic. To all the hypocritic cynics just in this to witness sickness, I’m spitting’ ‘em out as biscuits, I’m spinninin’ out and missed it, Shit. I had a point somewhere back up the page, But got caught up in those syllables and carried away. Okay, my point is that my rhymes are fresh, And I could bust a three verse without the help of a guest, And as you know, my flows are always perfectly timed, And I’m the master of fitting similar sounding words at the end of each sentence. (Do ya… Do you get it? ‘Cause, like, ‘time’ and ‘rhyme’, they would rhyme.) Psyche You know I’m kidding’, I ain’t going away, I’ve got a water tight contract* that keeps me in place, *[CITATION NEEDED] And it states: I’ve gotta finish this song within the hour, Otherwise the Myspace rates race with sour. Does that make sense? Who cares, I’m done. This fricken’ vocal booth is warm and getting’ hotter than ‘Nam And it’s gettin’ to the point where I’ve run out of sweat, ‘Cause this microfibre shirt is all stuck to my chest. [CHORUS] VERSE 2: From the seas to Hilltops, wherever beats drop, Remember me, I will stop aggressive MCs, Literally, I know this: Nathanael Marc sucks, So trust me, I’ll show this, he’s whack as fuck. Hey, I’m sorry, I was kidding, it was me the whole time! But it wasn’t plagiarism, ‘cause the words were all mine, But it might have been fraud ‘cause I manipulated minds, Into thinkin’ someone decent was contributing rhymes. Hey! That Nathanael Marc’s gay: The bastard don’t rehearse the fuckin’ things he likes to say, And he’s got these other projects, He’s got these other acts, That ain’t rap, or RNB, or soul, or black. Anyway, my point is that my rhymes are fresh, And I could bust a three verse without the help of a guest, And as you know, my flows are always perfectly timed, And I’m the master of fitting similar sounding words at the end of each sentence. [CHORUS]

VERSE 1 (SECOND CHILD): Feel free to stop me if you’ve heard it all before, There’s something deep inside of us that yearns to know the score, I wanna spread the word and share the knowledge that I saw, When my mind exploded and I walked into infinity’s door. Conditioning opposes, goes against divine law: We’re tough to split the categories of matter, mind, and form, We’re undecided, so divided, left or right, it’s less or more, Our thoughts are a caught and sorted through a lens of either/or, It’s all, Us or them, Day or night, Her or him, Dark of light, Sink or Swim, Fight or flight, Loose or win, Meek or might, Fat or thin, Seek or hide, Foe or kin, Blind or sight, Saint or sin, Wrong or right, You or I, Black or white. Every polarity draws direct lines, And connects apparent opposites which mutually define, Like how death is necessary to appreciate life, Like how you’ll only truly live if you’re aware that you’ll die, Like how you’ll only know what’s in by all the space outside, And like how endings and beginnings are each equally required, And like how everyone is everything and all is implied, By simply looking at a piece and using that as your guide. But we’re trained to accumulate and grab what we can, Convinced we’re cursed from birth and that we’re bad at our best, “Original sin” is nothing but a scam, it’s pretend, And if you believe it, you should get a scan of your head, Examined instead. Life’s an exam and a test-I-meant-, To demand for the rest, Each woman and man is the best, To know, understand and assess, Their place in the land of the M.E.S.T., Raise what they can and then next, Aim up those hands and be blessed, Pray for the brand and ingest. We’re all divine, that’s why we’re damned to ascend, Lacking attachments and strings like someone slamming a friend. Confront the damage of men, Raise up our standards and then, Look to the book of Revelation: You’re the man at the end. CHORUS: Everything is Everyone and Everyone is Everything Everything is Everyone and Everyone is Everything Everything is Everyone and Everyone is Everything Everything is Everyone and Everyone is Everything VERSE 2 (ZEDDEM) [CHORUS]

VERSE 1: Do you ever get the feeling like you’re trapped in a dream? Like you’ve done it all before, and this reality seems, 
Like it’s someone else’s story and it makes you wanna scream?
 Well, welcome to the drama, bro, you’re in the next scene. It’s so tragic and every single thing we know is plastic, But my hope is that I open up some minds with conscious rappin’, And I’m doing my best, and man, I wear it on my chest, But I’m hard to impress ‘cause I refuse to invest, In all the cranks and the phoneys and the liars and fakes. ‘Cause this is who we idolise; the heroes we make. We love to cut the just down and then we shit on the greats, It’s that tall poppy shit: the Australian way. Yup. Don’t shoot the messenger, the onus doesn’t lie with me, I’m just a guy who’s opened up his eyes and stated what he’s seen, And I can’t help it if you’re confronted by reality, The fact is that the hate you feel should projected inwardly. CHORUS: Hey mate, can you brighten up? I know this shit is sick, but you empower it with this - Try not to give a shit. ‘Cause nothing’s that bad, so tone your anger back, In fact, the world is fabulous, And how the fuck do you expect to make a change, cunt?
 Hey mate, can you brighten up? I know this shit is sick, but you empower it with this - Try not to give a shit. ‘Cause nothing’s that bad, so tone your anger back, In fact, the world is fabulous, And how the fuck do you expect to make a change? VERSE 2: It’s all reality TV: The written script has seen its last days. It’s such a shame, but it’s easy and pays, And whether the cameras follow rich sluts or folk chasing a dream, The people will tune in, it needs to be seen. And while I think of it, these talent shows, they make me sick: Never-weres and has-beens extinguishing the dreams of teens. It doesn’t matter, though, I really couldn’t give a shit:
We’ve got this platform to foster art, but look what’s done with it. There are no artists, there’s just entertainers, And they’re plastic and derivative and they’re there to bring the paper, But that’s the whole point, right? To shine bright and excite, For a moment overnight, but how the fuck do they survive? So can ya’ listen up? I know it’s hard to make the cut: You’ll be the farthest from an artist if you can’t at least just give a fuck. We gotta keep it all true to ourselves, And avoid conforming to the form this industry sells. [CHORUS] VERSE 3: So I’ll admit that some people get a kick outta help, And that they seem to really care and like they wanna do well, But they mostly only do it to feel good of themselves, Or they’re only helping out due to avoidance of hell. And these reasons are bullshit, it’s self-righteous lies from pulpits - The other one’s got bells on, so pull it. I’ve got my personal motivations to give wealth, And it doesn’t just rely on me deluding myself. So here it is: I’ve simply got no time for mankind: A frightened virus of pious blind leading the blind. But I feel we have a duty to support the poorer nations, ‘Cause if everyone survives, we’ll bring on overpopulation, And as we start to live longer and our bodies get stronger, We’ll cramp in tighter spaces that only barely contain us, And we’ll see a power shift and have to fight to exist, Or the plague’ll makes comeback, and thank fuck for that. [CHORUS]

I’m just gonna take the Ten Commandments, And make a move to improve ‘em Number one: Kids are innocent. Don’t fuckin’ abuse ‘em. The fact that child abuse isn’t ruled against as an outright sin Is a significant hint there’s something wrong with this tradition. Two: Sex ain’t a man’s right, rape is a sin, It’s weird the oxen shit is on the list while that one never made it in. It’s oversights like this that miss the mark, almost as if, The men who first conceived the shit did so to make dictatorships. Ah, but I’m sure that’s not it, I’m sure they had the best intentions. I’m sure laws best deserved just didn’t really bare a mention. I’m sure the plan was just for man to guide his sons and sisters, But it’s almost like the folk who wrote the list just bore false witness. Three: Every relationship should come with a clause, So don’t honour another person unless provided with cause. You know, the fact that they conceived you, Doesn’t mean that they have earned it: Honour your mother and father, Uh uh, if they deserve it. Four: “Thou shalt not kill” now that one’s alright. That is, if we remove the caveats that have been applied over time. So let’s change it from an injunction simply aimed at your tribe, And just extend it exponentially to cover all human life, And if you don’t mind, I’d like to go step further and add that murder, Should mean anything that leads another person to have, A worse shot a survival, or any indirect connection to death: If someone starves outside your pantry, let it be on your head. Five: These laws against names in vain, Have caused insane levels of persecution and pain, And it goes without saying, I won’t endorse any law that states what nor not I can say, That’s the sort of war that I live for and I’ll fight to my grave. And anyway, I think it’s safe to assume that the Most Great is imbued, With a wider view and thicker skin than you, I’m sure this force is amused at what humans choose to do And if it’s true I’m sure that golden calfs just make it laugh. Six: Everyone should get to choose for themselves, How to conceive, what to believe, who they really wanna be. It seems hard to see external truth with any certainty, So ultimately, my reality’s a product of me. And when I think of all the detestable shit, Dumped on impressionable kids, Framed as fact, claimed as “objective” and “is”, It seems fair to guess at whether or not the question is this: Do you really just believe it because your guardians did? Probably.

VERSE 1: I think it’s motherfuckin’ time to call it off: The human race has lost it’s shot, The only answer is an all-inclusive holocaust. This ain’t no exodus to starry spots; This virus don’t deserve a home if it can’t respect the one it’s got. It’s past prime, now it’s time to pay the piper, Just accept your guilt in this and calmly give your lives up. This worldview promotes love, albeit tough: Eradication can’t come quickly enough. Yeah. Religious educators separate out thought to box it, Are you a saviour or a Lostprophet, Like the priest who fucks kids? Amid a conscious agonised, school, church, body, mind: Someone’s getting’ raped tonight. These inner truths produce a guilt that can’t be levied, By a conscious effort ‘cause you barely know it’s there to start with. We can’t win without addressing what the fuck is wrong internally, But that’s a job, it’s effort, man, forget it. So we go in droves to buy what Michael Bay is selling; Opiates for dumb fucks, explosions and sluts, Those movies cost a quarter, but they make a billion back. Best estimate is we can feed the world with half of that. CHORUS: God if you exist, We want you rain down for forty days and end this shit. God if you exist, We want you rain down for forty days and end this shit. God if you exist, We want you rain down for forty days and end this shit. God if you exist, Prove with your fists and reenact the floods of genesis. VERSE 2: Engaged rhymes create plagued minds of undeserving, Enraged kinds of the faith-blinded, single serving, I’d take time to explain my position further, But fuck it, I’ma murder you with words and thin the herd. It’s wishful thinking, ‘Cause everybody feels like they’re a victim, Too caught up in success of X to go on living, They’re all martyrs and they’re chartering a course to ever-afters, But they’re missing out on here and now for starters. So fuck your business, I couldn’t give a shit if, Every single person like myself is wrong and gets imprisoned, In a sulphurous murk or some trans dimensional girth, That shit is so unlikely that I’d rather focus here on Earth. Heaven and hell shit, It only makes sense if you’re trying to sell shit, Religion is selfish. Manipulation’s key when you’re schooling the herd, But if you fall for that shit, you’re gonna get the fuck what you deserve. [CHORUS] X2

VERSE: Some folk believe that we continue when we cease to breathe, And while a possibility I need to see you just concede, That maybe, just maybe, you know you’re barking up the wrong tree, You’ve got no evidence and I need proof, But hey, that’s just me. Some folk believe that vaccinations cause autism, And every doctor that gives ‘em should rot in prison. In my opinion, even if they did (which they don’t), They still eliminate the risk of worse conditions, It’s a life or death decision. Folks believe that dilution boosts potency, When adding water copiously, And they admit this shit socially. Just think about it for a second, Maybe two, Focus please: Can’t you see it’s hocus pocus wizardry? I’m trying, see… Folk believe, they just believe, and that’s great, But know that herd immunity’s the thing that’s keeping ‘em safe You know, I’ve got some information that’ll put you in place, And it’s easy, brah, Yeah, man, it’s easy to grasp. Some folk believe that when the planets align, We’ll see the end of times as fire rains to Earth from the sky. But if I may, I’d like to point out as a matter of fact, That it’s an annual occurrence, it’s as simple as that. And hey, you know, some folk believe that homosexuals are cursed, And if their blood reveals AIDS then it’s the just deserts, While other people believe that it’s the medication and assert, That it’s a pharmaceutical plot to make the symptoms worse. Some folk believe that this is one of many lives, And that we simply switch bodies when we die. Despite the fact that population explodes and grows over time, I gotta ask: To account for this, is it just that our souls divide? Like, at expiry, is our consciousness torn? ‘Cause for every two dead, you know that four are born? This shit is true, I Googled birth and death rates to be sure, Just while the sentiment is nice and stuff, You lack the facts too back it up. Some folk believe that Terran life was designed, That it was seeded on the planet by an alien kind, And other folk believe in shit beyond the theory of mind, And that their consciousness creates reality, space, and time, And these folk believe that everything is all in our heads, And that we live inside the matrix, jacked up into the web, And that we’re just a power source for a malevolent force. This shit’s the premise of the film, But some believe it, of course. And some folk, they believe that the Messiah was white, And that a Middle-Eastern Jew birthed and Aryan child, And some folk, they claim belief but they don’t have it at all, They like to state belief to justify a racist cause, And these other folk, they have beliefs that are far from benign, You know that some folk today, they think that Hitler was right? And some folk, they need to wake on up and open their eyes, Some folk, they need to exercise their minds. It’s just that some folk, some thoughts, some groups and beliefs, Create dangerous interactions everywhere that they breed. I know my two cents was spent way back up the page, But now I’m feeling like it’s time to call a spade a spade: So check it, Some folk believe that other folk are insane, When they believe in information without credible claims, And those folk are sure the other folk should all be ashamed, Because they got the devil in ‘em and they’re lacking in faith. 
It never ends…

VERSE 1: Hate. Hate’s the prime mover that makes, The human primate self-enslave to the dictates of The State, And it’s hard to escape, ‘Cause we can never quite take when we’ve made the mistakes, Till it’s too late, ‘Cause it feels safe. Aw shit, this simplistic, nationalistic business, It’s ingrained via linguistic games in the brain. Just listen ling enough, and it all makes sense, That’s dollars and cents, ”‘Jesus saves” and now your soul’s spent. Ain’t nothin in this world more holy than prophets and crosses, Hold up, I think I must’ve meant “profits and losses”: Religion, business, cars and fridges Material possessions over health and sickness, Projectable reflections over flow and slickness, Exterior perceptions which are self-inflicted, I’m simply just suggesting that we go and kick this, Particular, interior, addictive witness. The fact is that we’re all hermetically sealed, Inside of bubbles made of plastic, Where nothing is real, And we base our self-worth upon applause of the crowd, And we’ve gotta catalogue every moment just to live in the now. We’re insulated and we think we’re being social, But our world’s encased, it keeps us trapped, incapsulated, Don’t you hate it? It’s either that, or it’s Tumblr and more, Repetitive strain from hitting click bait until your thumbs sore. [CHORUS] VERSE 2: They say that the drugs don’t work and that they only make it worse, And there’s a lot of truth in that and yet we’re still cursed. ‘Cause the society we live in is a drug in itself, But we need the other drugs just to stay in line on the shelf, And we need to numb ourselves down because we know it’s all wrong, And we need to dumb ourselves with formulaic movies and songs. With this monarchical view of the universe, All we know for sure, Is that it’s a pyramid-type structure with all the plebs at the floor, And the cycle is a vicious fuckin’ fight to the end, Where reality’s an enemy and escapism is our friend, And conformity’s the goal and all of our souls’ve been sold, The common mould is the essence of it all, Separating the one and whole. (Man, what’s your problem? Why are you always so mad? The world is just the way it is and you should be glad, That you were born a white, middle-class male and all’a that shit. So why don’t you shut the fuck up, simmer down, And check your privilege?) You’re kind of right ‘cause privilege is a problem, But it blurs the lines to silence any person, Who is randomly slurred and defined. And if you’re calling me on categories, Well, you’ve got me on “male” and “white”, But I’m poor as shit, even if my family’s financially tight, And all this hetero bullshit that you project upon me, Ain’t appropriate, it’s inaccurate, and I’m not the least ashamed - Just try to get it in you minds, That not every white dude with a mic, Is all about that bong hit, cap back flipped, chasing snatch shit. But that’s the scene, and I guess you need your rappers to be straight, And I guess you need your rappers saying “faggot” in hate, And if that’s the case, well, that’s great. Just know that we’ll never be mates, And I’ll cut you out without bothering to explain, And if my words sound weird or if my words sound odd, Or if my sentiment seems skewed or if my sentiment seems wrong, Well, that’s fine, ‘cause you’re entitled to your own opinion, see? Just know that you will never be a brother to me. Fuck the scene. [CHORUS]