How It Is

from by Mud Sun

/

lyrics

How It Is

That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it is

I making fat prophets crossing Biggie Smalls with Nostradamus
My catastrophic predictions are postally apocalyptic
But I'm not as cryptic
I'm pathologically optimistic
I had the option to stop giving a crap
But I passed on it
Like gastronomical blockage
I got the laxative product
I'm flowing with massive volume
Like the plasma you got in your arteries
You can't stop it without stopping your heartbeat
I'm droppin' cacophonic harmonies on tracks often
My sixteen bars get adapted to rap sonnets
And passed off as neoclassical knowledge
That's real masterful like a National Geographic
But I can be irrational 'cause I'm dealing with mad problems
That seem to surpass logic
Like a workaholic ant cursin' and misanthropic
I'm building a colony and callin' on any rapper with skill
To follow me and try to match topics
And patterns and rhythmic trash talkin'
And then when I'm finished
I party with the grasshoppers

That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was

I write barefoot ballads that bite bullets and fight bullshit
Treatin' the mic booth as my pulpit
Preachin' towards the force of five full clips
Sharper than implements from a clever guy's tool kit
I also write songs
Veloci-raps with teeth of razors
That chase kids through the streets for days
Without pause for thinking
With claws that sink in
And choruses that disenslave a man like Abraham Lincoln
Me and Baba are Captain Haddock and TinTin
The two tongue talker touring Toon Town
In a turbo teleporter with the roof down
Turning the tweaker to ten
That's the only way we'll put our tunes out
BMI and Virgin won't touch 'em
Fuck 'em
We'll keep slurring sentences like stoned Dutchmen
Yelling like our microphones don't function
We find fucking with photogs more fulfilling than punchin' 'em

That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was

Oh Really? How was it?
Once upon a time not long ago
You can find me gobbling mind boggling flows like an alcoholic
Swallowing fine bottles of wine
Now try and follow me close
As I expose most Hip Hop guys as lobotomized hoaxes

Whoop Whoop!
It's the sound of the policemen
Filling my town with impetulant screeching
A man shouted “Free Palestine!”
They tried to arrest him for treason
But we rushed 'em and they hid for the rest of the evening

Who's world is this?
It's now a superfluous search for pedicurers and perfect services
I work the verbal superlatives
And if you listen and think this verse is sick
Don't purchase it, just burn this disc

Don't push me 'cause I'm close to the edge
Sick of my generation vegetating on sofa beds
I'm standing on broken bus stops
Throwing stones at the Feds
Chuck your hands up to catch what I said
'Cause it's over your head

That's how it was
But this is how it is
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it was
That's how it was
But this is how it was

credits

from Mine The Gap, released February 15, 2008

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Baba Brinkman New York, New York

Canadian hip-hop with an intellectual bent, nothing but sexy beats and sumptuous brain food.

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