[Chorus] Every time I get in my zone I’m tryna kill a rhyme Fuck a faker, fuck a phony, fuck a filler line And instilled in my soul is the will to write But skill is minimized when it’s time to weaponize A state of shock is not what I’m identifying If I’m a flop, then I’m not gonna get the time To make it rock like cockiness is in my mind So Writer’s Block is not how I’ma live my life Writer’s Block, I do not got Writer’s Block And I’ma write regardless of the bars that have locked me in Writer’s Block [Verse 1] They say I got Writer’s Block, what do I say to that? I’ma bay and cackle like a maniac Backed by Mayeniac, yeah he made the track, so it’s safe to say that I came to rap But I hate to brag, I’m just hanging back because I can’t keep a straight face spraying crap I wasn’t made to act, with erasive tactics I’ma take your fake hits and make em fact I’m quite scared of these nightmares cuz they’re right there, so I’ll write fear And I never want another summer night smeared by these trite lyrics spit, aight? Hear Me, I’ma knife, shears, and I’ma slice ears cuz I’m nice, clearly I might really Be the one motherfucker who, despite appearances, might be nearing my height of dealing With this nonsense, aww shit, I can’t even write this song’s script Cuz every time I try to write a bar in, I think it’s all sick, but it’s hog shit I’ll admit that I’m just like all kids, addicted to all this raw spit I’m uncooked, if obnoxious is what Sauce is then I’m all in And it’s so appealing when I’ve over-seasoned any vocals heating up the dopest beats so When you go to eat it up and poke your teeth in, it’s loaded, seeping that potent bleeding Flow…yo…Don’t Feed The Heathens, Writer’s Block’s not controlling me and I’m below the median but owning beats so it’s so deceiving, no note I’m leaving, go [Verse 2] Even though I write the awesomest rounds, I am not quite the talk of the town Everybody fills up and builds up clowns, so when I come around I’ma knock em all down …wow, way to be a hater, I should wait to hate until I’m rocking a crowd Walking around, talking aloud, and tossing my nonsense around like it’s sound …And not dissonant, but I’m pissed at twits, with their radios listening To these senseless hits who keep tempting kids to regret any sensible questioning Of every level in this shallow and decadent, and impregnable temples of devils’ din …I’m getting restless, several sins are unsettling to my mental well-being But I could never like bad spit (Naw), guess I’ll never write that hit, naw Like whatever I’m bat-shit, off in my own little world, if you like me I’m lost I’ma keep it all in despite what it costs, every time I write I’ll ignite and exhaust Spiking your cough syrup nights with a song, y’all could never write with the likeness of Sauce And I’ma right the wrongs of unsightly songs who’re living life like a light bulb bright and on Cuz when the lights are off and every hype-man’s gone, I’m delighted to haunt em in nightly taunts But I might be talking that Writer’s Block, yeah I might be talking that Writer’s Block But it smites me not, and I’ma write regardless of the bars that have locked me in Writer’s Block Word

[Chorus] These are my bangers, this is my playlist These are my shit, but bitch I’m not famous This is what I’m talking bout, the mainstream hates this The freaks are all shameless leeches and I’m nameless [Verse 1] Good god I love the Underground, bury me now Carry me out down that scary aisle and marry me, Sound So now we bounce to the very town where terriers howl At a very full moon, they’ve had it being human for now I would dig my own grave if it kept me out the mainstream I know they would hate me, so why should I safe? See I’m not about that “awesome” debauchery, that’s a lame scene Encouraging these late teens to put their faith in fake dreams And go with the flow, so I’d rather spit this sick shit As in I’m in this music institution as its patient I’m patient, say shit, these rappers lacking patience All hoping to blow, but I hope they know most of em ain’t shit, face it So I stay content with my position in this hospital While I watch all these cocky bullshit artists hit their obstacles Then fall a full flight of stairs down cuz of all their gaudy gold It’s comical, cuz all this time I’m rocking in my Pop Cult [Verse 2] It’s hopeless, nobody shows love to vocals in dope cuts Unless it’s a chrome-studded colloquial faux thug These folks wouldn’t know ruckus if ruckus was known fun These fuckers just flow tons of this rubbish and blow blunts No, I don’t wanna listen bout the bitches you did last night And liquor? Pshh, go figure, I figured you’d get your “cash right” I’m not interested in your triggers or your gat fights Your clapping’s a sack of crap, is that your murder rap? Psych You’re fibbing undercover like you’re Gus and Shawn And I’m a sick motherfucker like I’m ill and fucking your moms I’d like the bricks, all your drugs, so I can have fun with the law You run shit hard on your block? Or are you nothing but fraud? Fucking come on, if I was into shit they played on the radio Hey the labels would pay me the dough to say shit I ain’t even know Lame freaks would play me at home with ladies while baking or stoned But I’d rather play me alone and say that I hate em, ya know? [Verse 3] All my underground artists, where your studios at? I said all my underground artists where your studios at? Are you bootleg and basement when doing your rap? Don’t be ashamed you ain’t “made it,” your music’s intact All my underground artists, where your studios at? I said all my underground artists where your studios at? Are you bootleg and basement when doing your rap? Don’t be ashamed you ain’t “made it,” your music’s intact And you don’t answer to nobody, your flow is your own spark and You’re focused and dope but mostly alone at your own party It’s hardly a party when the majority owns Barbie But knowing that your soul hasn’t been sold to copy boasts art See this is real shit, but a lot of hits are sellout You sell embellished albums to your crowds? Get the hell out Cuz I’m ready to yell now and belt this out as swelled sound You’ll hear it well and loud even though I dwell in the Underground

[Verse 1] …I don’t think I really dig my attitude When I’m spitting sick and stupid rapping in my blackened room Someone get a match or luminescent batch of massive shrooms Either dudes are sleeping on my music or I’m whackadoo Some rhymes inspire me to teabag the irony And go cock to tonsils with anybody lying to me And tryna repeat tired lines of why I should be tryna be The quiet guy who I can be when trying to hide the violent freak I’m a G…Nah fucker should I stoop to be These stupid scheming posers while I croon about elusive peace? While I’m moving keys of coke to units snooping through the streets? I move in lucid dreams, Lucifer’s as cool as heated Demons, I’ma school these music heathens on their playground Hey now, anytime I play around hate’s bound To snake its way into the sound, hey you know your way around The nonsense store? I want a golden suit and plated trousers [Chorus] I don’t care where you’re from as long as you’re a lyricist Spare the flare, spare the “fun,” I just wanna hear you spit But Ladies let their hair down in the club for all the mirror shit Carbon copy narrow shit, they hear but they won’t spare a cent They JUST wanna bump, JUST wanna grind Lame FUCKS wanna stunt, FUCK all the rhymes LaBELS want a cut, FUCK getting signed I’ma rhyme how I wanna, FUCK what you had in mind [Verse 2] So I used to have a “Rap Legends” poster in my room But to be honest I only knew like a quarter of the dudes Let’s say 20%, so who’s a rapper to you? A flash back to when I actually got that dap in my youth Now I creep for hours seeking out celebrity nudes To post in the hopes of increasing my degenerate views My internet presence since has left me confused Because no matter what I do, my shit’s reflecting a noose And telling me to kill myself? Bitch my shit is real as hell Vivid how I live in spitting, just in case you couldn’t tell So I shouldn’t dwell on what I coulda done or should to sell Because I’m way beyond that point in life when I would push to fellas Out in the Commons, now let’s be honest, I was not hip I did not have all the confidence to follow up the bomb threats But now I’ve blossomed into awesomeness, no contest Too bad my youth had to be used for all that nonsense

[Chorus] I’m tryna make a fuckin fan listen A mufucka on a damn mission But I don’t hustle with my ambition I’m up and running in the stands swinging A fuckin rumble, now the fans get in I’m hunting humble with my hands hitting You fucking stumble when you stand trippin So come to understand this man spitting [Verse 1] I’ll craft a multi-syllabic attack on your ass like I’m batshit And you’re Man-Bat against Batman, you’re fly but don’t have half the wit When rapping shit like crappy gifts, I’ll stash em in my bag of tricks And wiggle down your chimney like that fatty Nick through ashy lint Grab a pen, Matt is in the house now, I’m company So run with me on funky features, bumping beats and humming heat Eat something sweet and summon demons up from under other’s feet There’s only one Matisse so there ain’t nothing once you’re done with me Fuck with me, I’ll invade your home and drop my tape in places 8-day-olds’ll play alone and play it over baby songs So all of these colicky little infants’ll sing along And make you all some crazy awful neighbors when the wailing stops Shake it…shake it…shake it…y’all shake it off Is it lawful using Taylor’s song for babies shaken calm? Ain’t it wrong? Ain’t it undebatable that Satan’s shawl Was sewn into the hood of my hoodie before I paid for cloth? Matt-isms! Passed the nastiest class in rap lit But that shit was practice, I’m axing you halfwits And hacking this rap shit to rags every track spit Matt’s sick, ad-lib, I’ve had it with these chapped-lipped Losers who woo ya, they’re stupid and their rhymes suck But mine are refined, every line is a mindfuck I’m nuts, sign up for a fire and I’ll light up Ignite a ton of dynamite and mic up my life, what [Verse 2] I want my Pop cult to absorb Mac’s hordes You can tell them all I took it by force, Chuck Norris I got Morris in my corner, Sinatti Pop’s on the boards And so every time I hear the score it makes me want it more But I get bored with my shit about a minute after dropping it I gotta get better at this product pitch and lobbying For causes cuz my honest hits are not leaving a lot convinced That I can spit, I’m dying sick in silence with this vibrant script I’m damaged by anxiety, panic long as my eyes can see The only time I’m still is when I die at night so silently And quietly, but I awaken violently midnight to 3 My eyes are moving rapidly, but I’m writhing while I’m tryna sleep …Read me a bedtime story or sing a lullaby Bout how I’ve fucked my life and how I only fucking wish to die Shit’s a lie, but fibbing isn’t quick defined within a rhyme I’m vibing with hyperbole to illustrate my vivid mind “Mystify…” every single kid who’s on the internet Who’s off and clicking threads about hip-hop and who’s up getting next “This the best!!” Thanks, I guess? “So why’re you not getting press?” Cuz I ain’t tryna impress anyone, admit my shit’s a mess Yet I script this verbiage and work it into furious sets I’m bleeding every lyric, I’ma die without a tourniquet Where’s the vet? I’m working like a dog through all this nervousness All you seem unsure and so I’m asking “Is it worth it?” Yes.

[Verse 1] I used to use an inhaler, I was clearly asthmatic Now I rip tracks like hacking limbs off heroin addicts Married the stereo cabinets, planetarium status Yeah bitch I'm outta this world, aliens' weird apparatus Fashioned a pact back when teachers had been preaching of Jesus And now my lyrics bleed in speakers while peers abusing baristas So the caffeine can speed up their weak and feeblest features They're freaking leeches, high society's a demon, believe it ...See I'm tryna summon Beetlejuice, Betelgeuse? Edelweiss Bump my sound of music, the hills are alive and made for sight Open eyes so I can take in light, but I see widescreen cuz I’m Asian and White Waving my right hand faking a fight, while I’m steady with my left making flavored rice I'm not from poverty, a lot of fucks are taunting me Coming from the gutter? I come from a doctor, mom, and trees Suburban honesty, no talking like I walked the streets But all of yall’ll be coughing in heat when I drop this hot release [Chorus] A lot of artists feed to stereotypes Wearing the mic like a lanyard as they carry the hype, right? If no one wants to love us while we’re up on this stage We’ll throw a middle finger up, then another one just in case We know we’re ill like we’re sicker than SARS Stitching these scars with these lyrics as we’re spitting these bars hard If no one wants to love us while we’re up on this stage We’ll throw a middle finger up, then another one just in case [Verse 2] Listen, I come in Swinging, hitting lyricists with whiffle ball bats Spitting raw raps, since it’s all Matt, this is combat Ditch your straw cap and replace it with a hard hat I’m raining (reigning) from the heavens, the Devil’s infected God’s lab Get it? I’ve injected my rhetoric with a hex of grammar Cursing words, electric verses working, get me steady hammer Slam it, wrecking every jam elected when I’m venting bangers Any stress that gets to be a problem, I’ll Cortexiphan ‘em Fuck your Walter White, Bishop is my spirit beast Clear-a-ly he mirrors me empirically, we merrily Rock out behind the steering wheel, scary cuz we carelessly Are wielding precariously errant dreams in daring deeds I’m out and WOWing ‘em, I’m skilled with the draw y’all It’s like I’m Metallica while I’m Killing ‘Em All off A villainous sillyman and I’m iller than coughs Spitting arterial willy-nilly, I’m spilling TheSauce, so drip-drop [Verse 3] So I guess I'm a fool cuz I went through too many years of private school Acting prim and proper, the fact is I was as raw as fuel Unrefined, dying in those classrooms with all them tools Follow cues? Nah I'd rather off and call an audible And make shit up as I live my life, this gig isn't really quite What I anticipated back when I had just begin to write Or just begun, fuck your fun, I'd rather envision hype When I get up on stage and spit these vivid lyrics into mics But about 6 years have disappeared since I commanded fans Enchanting stands with random chants in tandem with this frantic man Prancing up on stage as awkward walking as your gran or gramps Tryna make it seem like we ain't ancient, we jam to the blandest brands We get no thumbs up, speaking over dumb chumps Mumbling something under the rumble of their trunks subs This stinks of punk skunks, listen, fingers up once Nah I'll make it twice, no index, pinky or ring, what's up

[Verse 1] I say I’m an artiste…you say “Spit a bar, Tisse!” So I get a hard beat, then I rip it apart, EAT Yall listening to charred meat, those remnants of hard beef But I’m not regretting any scars I keep because they’re part of me I’m tryna get in a rhythm and spit this hellish shit I’m thinking But I’m unhealthy, father’s kid is no physician And I’m in a predicament, I’m in need of a prescription I’m sick with a mental illness science isn’t so familiar with I’m over dealing with every single thing I think on a daily basis And I hate that I lay awake in stasis states while staring blankly Out into outer space, or how I stay complaining bout my place In a Vacant Basement, if this the way it’s that it’s bound to stay I ain’t gonna “Make it”…but what the fuck does that bullcrap even mean? I don’t wanna seem like I’m being facetious or evil, but rap is a freaking scheme I don’t wanna sell my soul to the corporate demon unless that shit’s redeemed Get to me? Innervisions’s seen my depth, so let me vent and leave this scene [Chorus] Okay, now I've decided to take the time To tell you within a rhyme that nothing inside my mind is fine I'm scarred smashing these rappers track after track while I'm rapping ‘em This is madness, y’all are talking smack but I don’t get the sarcasm Sometimes I just wanna quit rhymes Then I drop a sick line and I’m up again live I'm scarred smashing these rappers track after track while I'm rapping ‘em This is madness, y’all are talking smack but I don’t get the sarcasm [Verse2] No I’ve never been cool and I never been popular, but I'm rocking this spit And I’ve never been a tool, I’ve never been cocky, but how awesome is this? My syllable spool is sewing a costume I can rock in the wind I don't get it how the rudimentary nonsense tops, and I flop with this flint When I strike this rap, light this match, everything aflame when I write these facts A hype beats slashed? It might be matt, can I get a reputation well-liked tracks? "Ye" and can I get a like please after? "Nay" whatever get a life "keep sassing" Kay, I don't get the badge or the acting, cuz I don't get shit if it's sarcastic Maybe because I come from around the metro They're bound to let go their sour death notes But I drown in direct quotes, as loud as deaf goes Empowered breath ' s prose now is found on my headstone I vocally vent, opening drowning dead souls For now I'm bound down in the underground, so let's grow But I've found however many downloads get sold Is not in correlation to your sound or sets though [Verse 3] Yo, all I see is frames but no faces It's like I’m praised by the nameless They say they show support but they’re flaking No wonder I'm afraid of the faceless The fakest and the fickle and the faithless I feel like every compliments evasive They're playing when they saying that I make hits Because really they ain't giving any saved shits

[Verse 1] So I’m hitting these bars like I'm Sterling Archer, I'm surely sharper Roberto Belcher with beef I'ma burn you charred hurt, my burgers larger Verses scar ya, wordsll Mar ya, not meant to murder but I'm a sick carver My Cursed heart is working harder than any impotent and worthless artists I guess everyone here is in therapy, and they’re scared because they cannot bear to see All These parodies out here in clarity, aware that the freaks are all sharing dreams They’re their Pairing evil and daring deeds, from tearing it up in these scary streets With fairly decent and barely cheesy jams, but weakened airs released ...you hover above this? I'ma uppercut your McNuggets And I’ll have you stumbling wondering how you can undo all of your dumb hits I'm done with this, nothing can get me up gunning like malicious tongue twists So listen up for this kid to spit bitch, and fuck your club hits Cuz I’m a habitual vocalist, I said it I meant it, how dope is this? I’m focusing and honing in, whatever a reverie hoax this is Forever and never, the moment’s slim, regret or forget it, I’m over this I hope this isn’t no beginning, I’m better in rhetoric, spoken sin [Verse 2] Yall are some Dr. Loomis like you're all scared of the mic (Mike) Like All of the music that I’ma write is frightening, a werewolf at night A Miracle blight, it's like I’m a Lycan sick with a terrible bite But then I can hide behind my guise inside of my mirror and light Yeah Matt is a radical activist with the wrath of a pathogen My attack’ll be rapidly quick, when I slap ‘em with adjectives A tragic affliction, and I'm wreaking havoc while rapping this with my massively passionate acts of savagery, ravenous And I'm willing to drill into competition n kill ‘em From within, illness in rhythm, my skill’s distilled into venom, I'll dead ‘em I’m unlevelheaded, bent on wrecking phonetics And I'm set to decimate any pathetic Redditor unthreaded, get it? If y’all wanna dig up the ditch I've been in, give this a spin Common? All of my knowledge is infinite, I’m omniscient This is it, its omnipotence, bigger than any, Its definitely Deafening when records spit go harder than quality veterans [Verse 3] Dammit I'm crammed in this banana stand scripting all the sickest jams It can't be only me unless I'm twisted up like an ampersand "Can it man?" It beats me, this instrumental’s banging and My tempo is impeccable like I’m George-Michael on candid cam Jamming with no metronome, infected vocals and deadly flow I’m beestin, hear me breathe on a beat, y’all won't need a stethoscope Forget the note, I'll let ‘em know, so yo, let go of my testicles All of y’all are breaking my balls, I’m exploding, get your G.O.A.T.

[Verse 1] I cannot be bothered by the calls of our father My Alma mater is on earth, stepfather 's fallen upon her But I am not the spawn of Satan, sister’s not demon daughters I'm an adopted little monster walking off to the slaughter Coughing, decaying from within...i wince and i cringe This is the whim of every imp I spit up scripting these hymns Whistling din, hella melancholy melodies spin Meld and envelop me, telling me yelling’s seldom a sin But I zip my lips, bite my tongue, like I’m spiteful but humble Though I'm bubbling up erupting, nothings dumped from above you It's just another fucking rumble in my stomach, a "fuck you" For all the stunts that I could done, but I funneled ‘em unto My fucking self, fuck this hell, but I don't want to rebel That shelling wouldn't end well, so I've stuck to myself Oh what a well that I've dug myself, drowning, a spell And all this pouting overpowers all the love that I've felt [Verse 2] So the Devil looks after his own, oh. A little like catching a cold, yo And there ain’t no cure for the old, soul. So you’d better lock down what you wrote, go Every single syllable I spoke, flows, up esophagus, acid in throat, gross Exorcist words from clergy? Nope. Y’all better just go home. DOPE The Devil is cunning, trying to tear me away But I keep writing these words in these verses smeared on this page And I am not about cowardice, fear is feeling so fake And I’m playing Devil’s advocate whenever lyrics’re at stake I’ve had a devil of a time tryna make this work, no luck of the devil cuz I may be cursed Devil-may-care cuz I’ve painted my hearse the worst shade of gray when I lay in the dirt But I don’t see earth cuz I’m Murdock lurking and working the tempo like Hell’s Kitchen vermin God and the Devil, 2 sides of the same jerk, faith hurts, face first, man he remains third …Am I a Devil? …No I’m a man Therefore every Devil resides in my heart, canned …I can’t stand to rant, my crippled hands Are cancer-riddled, damn these answers written, damn Me to hell [Verse 3] I do this to let my devils out lest they consume my soul But truth be told, I'll never break this ruthless hold I'm all alone and regret life, stare at you through dead eyes When I let my apparent devils vent, I’m Not possessed, I pray I'm not possessed

[Chorus] God bless you Elizabeth, ever since I was a little kid Your kiss was permanent on my skin, but your lips are why I’m meant to sin I know you meant no harm with your embrace, but within your arms is where I learned to hate First through eighth, a serpent waiting to purge what was learned and then burn this faith [Verse 1] I was educated in a lions’ den with liars chiming in and tryna blend Hiding in these vibrant gems and denying a destiny of primal sin Sometimes I rewind to when I’m a kid, a quiet-lipped, silent child in That pious zen, I was alive but dead, it would be a decade before my eyes opened Is it pathetic that I never let it go? Is it regrettable I stress about unknowns? Because Heaven’ll never let me in, but the belles in Hell’ll be like “Welcome home!!” I seldom go where the hell-bent go because I never obsess over hell-bent goals But my hell-bent soul is a well-spent ghost and it’s better I never regret a hell-bent roast So to each his own, believe what you wanna, I don’t ever wanna be the demon in a sauna But sometimes I just gotta release what I bottle, so I’m not about to martyr a believer with a motto (OH) …And it’s times like that that I want a tenderizer to massage my back Cuz I’m so stressed out to the point I’m a wreck, heck “How bout you breathe cyanide, Matt?” I never tried suicide, but between you and I, doom and life seem to be the same so “who decides?” The brutal lies, or the human and the putrefied, neither, I’ma try it blind, either’s for a foolish mind I’ll live my life in these tunes and rhymes, proving that beauty is in the eye of who chooses sight My loosest line’s tighter than a crucifix crucifying Jesus to Judas, this is who your “truth” defined [Verse 2] Lemme say this, I can’t take it, I don’t want no more of this fake shit Ain’t nobody come to be my buddy while in Saints’ scripture, ain’t nobody talking straight-lipped They’d just say shit like they’re blameless, erased are the days when I’d take shit I’ma take this halo up above my brain and break it, a symbol of hatred I was caged up through grade 8, feeble, but when I graduated I stayed lethal That rage that had fashioned a place in my abdomen made me what I became, evil) I hold grudges, I ain’t vocal much, but these vocals pump and eat holes in punks Who preach total love, but when you hope for some, they just open up a deep soul of nothing Fuck… And I won’t ever go back, no matter how many trump cards are stacked I don’t give a rat’s arm bout nostalgia and crap cuz I’m too fucking old to be bummed far back A lumbar strap to support my backpack, too many actions in pageants at Mass Back in class I would try so hard, then I half-assed after I gathered the fact I was a lab rat Back in my current lab I work on these burned tapes to set a bridge so ablaze that it burns waves Murder takes with a rage that was learned sane, but birthed anger and angst when I learned hate First grade was the first stage where worms wade, I was immersed in a churned lake of pure pain Convert me with a sermon of a virgin birth? You’re late, most of the jerks who I wanna curse are your Saints

[Verse 1] It seems like every song I spit’s ignored or viewed in passing If you want me to do some more or you want me to mute, just ask me I keep keeping up this rapping cuz people keep on clapping At least the few who feel like saying “Dude, you so nasty!!” I could do more than shoot porn with new torque as I lube ornaments You force into new corners in crude orgies of cute horny Sorority newbies joining a brute force in a new form While I scoop foreign newborns outta loose whores with a shoehorn Ooh boy… it sounds like I’ve finally had that bad day Jack’s way, a cracked brain making way for the mad insane Out of sight and out of mind, you all look at me that way “Your rap’s lame” That bad, eh? Then how come I’ve got mad plays? I’m kidding, they’re little, so minimal, I’m obsolete The only way I get these Tweeps to follow me is follow sprees Golly gee, god I wanna be the hottest, honestly But modesty is all I breathe and topically I’m not that heat [Verse 2] Maybe I should change my ways, am I saying I should paint my face? And make my makeup shaped up like the Jokerr with an Asian blade? Say my name in your shameless game and I’ll take this razor and make filets Save it babe, my tongue’ll cut you fucking cunts, I came the steak That you ate this evening, ain’t I seedy? …Fuck that I’m just plain creepy Playing beats and spraying heat, serrated teeth chew bangers easy But no one sees me, seems like I’m an undiscovered species Underrated, underappreciated by these laymen, now leave me be Secrecy, I need dark to sleep in peace I’m a hardened carnivore and I’m starving for tasty beats to eat Feed me heat and I’ll carve it clean, I’m a shark who’s scarred through ancient deeds And arctically coldhearted demons who martyred me to keep the peace Now I speak silently, screaming oh so violently Tryna be this vibrant beam of light within this quiet dream I’m kinda beat…I’m trying but I cannot succeed Why can’t I believe that I can be the kind of freak who buyers need? [Verse 3] I keep having the same dream where these lame people hate me Saying I’m too tame for their horrorcore, but too morbid for mainstream Claiming they can’t label me, what’s the horrible vacancy? If labels can’t stay framing me, then shouldn’t I be breaking free? I guess the niche markets where this really fits aren’t as Common as I want ‘em to be, harmony in pitch, target Bars at darker kids while barring kids who’re far too sick-hearted I’ve got hardly anyone, but I’ma get this shit started, Sauce

[Chorus] We’re the artists and martyrs We’re the honest and martyred artists [Verse 1] Hi, I’m Matisse, the rap Jackson Pollock piece, I’ll admit it’s hard to swallow me When I’m carving a feature out of oddities, but in all honesty, I’ve got a quality That’s not often seen within these starry G’s, but it’s hard to keep it up and bark on beats When these gnarly streets keep a darkened sheet right beside all of my rhymes like I’m a martyred freak All I do is hate on other rappers, sick and pitiful, when am I gna get it through my head I’m invisible? Shit ain’t even minimal, nobody even listens through, hidden on the internet, I’m getting sick of little dudes Blowing the fuck up and making me look miniscule, sitting in an inner tube while they all swim in bigger pools Bitch I’ma forget the rules, fuck a frikkin hit or two, I’ma let it loose with my vision and beget a new Age of artists, way of the tarnished, faces hardened by their place in the darkness Make you astonished, take in the starving, and bake ‘em a marvelous cake for their hardship This Sauce is a patient marksman, waiting to harness the faith of the fallen I don’t even target before I spit carnage, and this is my morning shit, it’s alarming [Verse 3] Never utter my name thinking I’ll ignore you, never utter my name digging for the boy who Never fucking uttered but a stutter to avoid you, you’re never motherfucking ever fucking with this Tsoy dude “Tsoy who?” See that’s my point dude, ain’t nobody wanna be my buddy and enjoy tunes Tsoy loses, America’s point proven, ain’t nobody love the motherfuckers who enjoy music So we keep it up, writing our verses, writing our trite little lives into hearses Signing our certificates and micing our murders, like we would like this to lighten our curses But we’re God damned, fighting this urgent indictment and working to right this internment Of like wordsmiths, bright but imperfect, that’s what it’s like to live life with these urges

[Chorus] This is for the kids who’re alone and lonely (like me) Bless an adolescent who won’t go for phonies (like me) Hoping they ain’t Holden to a Catcher in the Rye Pipe dreams might seem quite trite until you fly (until you fly) [Verse 1] I remember ten years prior to the present Grades 9, 10, and 11, I was wired with this venom Coursing through my veins, silent but in my head I was an enemy No friend to me, regrettably I meant the shit I said to me Anyone who hates who they are, this for you Anyone who’s praying for tomorrow, this for you Anyone who came to the party or the bar But who’s waiting by the car for their friends to finish boozing, this for you Don’t ever let a “rebel” get you down Cuz you ain’t went with them to town to do shit that ain’t allowed Hell, you’re better than them, how? Cuz your vision’s in the clouds And these kids are friggin sheep the way they listen to the crowds Who’s really breaking rules? And who’s paying dues? Who’s playing who when they ain’t staying in school? Who’s making moves for a future? It’s true That the dude who’s en route to a new age is you [Bridge] You say you relate to nobody? You say you’re a stranger at most parties? You’re praying you won’t die as a pariah But I’m saying you’re a liar when you say you’re nobody [Verse 2] They labeled this table of kids the outcasts (cool) They labeled this table of kids clown brats (cool) They labeled this table of kids the “now” pack, cool But what label are you taking when you hate em all? (fools) Fake ID’s, the fake I needed’s some fake white teeth To fake my cheesing when fakes recited a night or evening Or even a weekend, I fake liked hearing their beefing up The set of events that progressed as their life beested Please, I never fit in with any of em I know there must be others who are sick of hearing nothing Cuz to be a real rebel stunting now you’ve gotta feel something Other than the puff of a blunt or your fucking beer buzzing I’m too far removed to sit here and stew But that doesn’t mean I can’t spit a verse for a few Minutes getting this shit off my chest for a blessing, imbuing Breath to a dude who fights depression in my youthful shoes

[Verse 1] Low, country, we drove down for the weekend And we, we fell in love with the city on that evening but see We had to leave but I made promise and a pact That we’d be back, and now we’re back like that and feeling freedom We’re free from ennui, we’re breathing in calm breeze We’re keeping it SC while sleeping with palm trees In Chucktown, what now, nothing can dissolve these Feelings that resolve deep demons, now it’s all sweet Syrup on chicken and waffles, honest to God Ain’t nobody walking taller on the cobblestone block Through the farmers’ market, I just bought a lot all for my dog God it’s like I won the lotto when I got up for a walk It’s simple pleasures after desperate measures Had been taken in a relocation effort for the better Of the both of us, I know it’s tough, but focus on a moment’s love And notice how the hope is flowing from the door we opened up [Verse 2] …yup, I’m lovin’ it, Lowcountry all day Ain’t no elevation, we stay behind iron wrought gates Gazing at sunsets like Funfetti crumb cake If you could get one day in Charleston, you’d come stay Second Sunday, get me sweet grass baskets Home-woven, you know this is street craft madness Seafood catches stay fresh, no plastic They make their way to plates like they came out the Atlantic City caught my eye in a Carolina summer And I wanted to be Southern for the love of pride and comfort Under coastal skies owning the nights, style and wonder Living life how I wanna right now, I’ma call Whatever happens down here’s gonna stay ‘round here Cuz I’m staying down here til I’m frail without hearing And I’m nearing the end of my life with a grayed-out beard And every anniversary I’ma remember the year when [Bridge] Ain’t no country like Lowcountry Let’s go honey, let’s roll lovely Let’s coast Sunday round old money Our Lowcountry, our home honey

[Bridge] …Yo I’ma stay making playless playlists …Cuz I ain’t really on my way to make it …And I ain’t really made for faking famous …So I’ma stay awake in vacant basements [Verse 1] Every time I quit music, I go get back right into it Writing loopy lunatic movements, guess I’m quite the stupid Fucker cuz I love it more than other more constructive uses Of my time, but rhyming’s proven right to soothe the whiny nuisance Who is I, who am I to write about clearer vision? Smear the condensation away so I can continue spitting Staring in the mirror so I can look at my lyricism Hear the rhythm, lyrical slithering so you fear the venom When I bare my teeth, am I scared to speak? Nah dude This could be the jam of the week on repeat with all you But all you all put on are all these awful installed tunes Instead of rocking out to Sauce, I’m raw with the volume, look [Chorus] I’ma stay awake in vacant basements Yeah, I’ma stay awake in vacant basements Know what I’m saying? I’ma make a statement So I’ma stay awake in vacant basements [Verse 2] I have yet to make a dime of profit from my raw spit If I hustled just as often as this nonsense I’d be awesome And you’d know it, but at the moment I’m just awesome in the darkness Barking bars with all this confidence, but honestly I’m modest To a fault… I won’t brag to you “Oh you rap, do you?” Yeah, but I won’t blast new tunes Hollering obnoxiously that I spit fucking crack used to Stab your rag doll in the back with a thumbtack, voodoo I’m not the radio, I won’t fucking brainwash This hate into your brainwaves, I’ll let you be lame-sauce I’ll let you be fake-hard and fake-boss while taking off With anything that fame tosses at your face that ain’t Sauce [Verse 3] Look, I still got it bro, even though I’m mighty old Vice grip on the brightest lightning nice-spit haiku, tightest hold I’ll let go of flowing poems only when it’s time to go Only when it’s time to float back home alone dying’s boat But I can’t imagine not having a pad to rap in If it happened, I would fashion a back-alley shack to nap in After tracking out the baddest of Matt-isms snazz and having It mastered back in the lab where the madmen have their contraptions Am I a has-been? When was I ever being? I spit this shit by my lonely only to keep on breathing So every heathen who heeds the words that my neck is screaming Better be a nether-demon set on stealing record pieces, peace

[Verse1] While you all turn up, I shut that shit down I’m all but burnt up bitch I’m bout to spit now So put your dick down and get it through your thick brow That I ain’t tryna gimmick this shit, I’m tryna rip sound Can I rap me a feature to slap on your songs? While yall are all drinking and packing your bongs? Having a ball, trashing the mall, carrying on with the pack of your dawgs? Naw… …So I’m feeling rejected, my back to the wall Hopped in my coffin, relax and withdraw, when all that I want is some clapping applause …Yup, that’s Underground, wond-er-ous sounds, but all fucking around Hung’ring for crowds, hundreds of thousands come from around, light em up, get em loud …And that’s the dream, but ain’t nobody here near pragmatic as me See I have to be when rap laughs at me, I can’t fathom the asshole I’d have to be So as I’m ripping this Sinima beat, I’m flowing and letting my energy free I’m knowing I’m potent and spitting that heat, and no one can take this away from Matisse Nah…Am I really a freak? Really as silly as what I must seem? I’m willing to feel what I feel to release, but still I’m a millionth of what I could be [Chorus] I love this music scene, but what’s it ever done for me? My lyrics paint a vivid picture but no one bumps Matisse [Verse 2] While you all spit turd, tryna get heard I’ve been scripting words of wisdom, tryna network But the shit hurts, when ain’t shit worked I guess I suck at this business, I ain’t big terms But I’m kind of a dick when I’m working with artists, nobody’s perfect and nobody’s flawless But lots of these “artists” are farces, talking a lot but not working their hardest …It’s the curse that we’re scarred with, churning the dirt but not learning to farm It’s already hard enough herding the heartless, wording a verse and then work in the garden I’ma plant the seed, might seem mellow but ain’t nobody amped as me And I can’t believe how all these handsy leeches keep reaching, damn, call my brand Matisse And if you’re thinking that I’m handing out candy free, I won’t dignify your ass with an answer, please …I can’t stand to be, below the bottom of this pandering trampoline Now a lot of this hobby is hogging my time, so why’m I not popular rocking these rhymes? Why’m I not following stars in the sky? Cuz stars are too hollow to swallow their shine …So I wallow in mine, cough up my heart while I scrawl a few lines And all of my sorrow is fostering lies when I tell myself honestly all is all right [Verse 3] So as I’m ripping this Sinima beat, I’m flowing and letting my energy free I’m knowing I’m potent and spitting that heat, and no one can take this away from Matisse Nah…Am I really a freak? Really as silly as what I must seem? I’m willing to feel what I feel to release, but still I’m a millionth of what I could be Nope, I won’t settle for that, but I know I’ll never blow up selling my craft Oh crap…So to hell with that, yeah I’ve been heavy metal, been to hell and back And I’ve felt attacked, belted, melted tracks, then I fell back, felt I would shelter Matt You can’t tell me jack about fulfilled or lacking, cuz I’ve still got skill and the will to rap, what

[Verse 1] This Matt man, he needs to rap He needs to craft spit to breathe on tracks But he’s feeling whack because he needs that cash So he can feed that family he needs so bad But he’s no dad, and he’s no actor He sees those factors that scheme those traps To keep those magical dreams so average Scene’s so stagnant though he goes after it She lets me keep it going though she’s not a fan of it And so I keep on flowing dope because I can’t stop it And so I stand nodding, rocking to my jams Popping off like I’m the man, falsely falling on my fans honest But I’ve got a lot to stand for, I’m a man modest While I’m talking bout how I’ve got all this banned knowledge She doesn’t understand, but she holds my hand, palm and Fingers intermingle and we’re sitting as a pair and she’s saying [Verse 2] She looks after me cuz I’m ridiculous A bit of Asperger’s, OCD, meticulous When I mingle with hits I’m addicted to it But she’s fluent as a muse when I’m sticking to it While I do this, she’s cool with the music Even though the “movements” I groove to have no movement So stupid, vocally no human Should ever stress about the betterment of old bruises But I can’t stop, it’s a dance-off Though my jams rock, I’m ashamed so she can’t watch I’m the same as the pain that I can’t drop But I’ve gotta leave that behind and be a man pronto Onto bigger things, better places Lawn’s always greener on the other side by neighbors I hate these ways, but I’ve gotta make payments Lame how I’m a tenant in my brain, but she’s saying this [Verse 3] So I wanna say thank you for loving me, thank you for being there Thank you for not packing backs up and fleeing scared Thank you for helping me walk when my feet won’t dare I’m feeble and awful and all, but I see you stare Right back at me, smiling and laughing And when I see that, that means I’m happy That means rap is my craft, but I’m actually Happier snacking on crackers and napping With you, yeah you, and only you Cuz you helped grow me from lonely to fruitful And truthfully I think I owe you the moon so Quatro, treice, dos, now uno You go zooming to infinity and beyond And I’ll add one, then rap a little wee song Just keep on, doing what you’re doing And we’ll be strong, we rock, all because you keep on saying

[Verse 1] One of my idols taught to Try for what you love, because the chance is just as great If not way greater some would say, that you could fail at what you hate For acting absent, lacking passion when you’re playing it safe Now I’m a waste, I spent two decades all chained in that state So what, was I supposed to spit with no contingency plan? Licking these lyrical jams livid and pissed at The Man? And frikkin shit on what was given to me? Privileges, damn Listen I didn’t take a chance to live my scripture in-hand So now I work a 9-5, plus some overtime, earning for These checks that bounce some of the time, what have I been yearning for? Turning this pastime and this hobby into perfect form But what if I learned that I sucked at what my passion’s burning for? This isn’t the prettiest living setup, admittedly I’ve been up and down and out, because of spitting religiously I live by squashing demons with the singing within me But I’m not following my dreams, instead I’m bringing em with me, wassup [Chorus] I really believe in what I’m yearning for, working towards I’m never leaving this fervor, burning torch, lurching forth Learning to stomach my troubles, turn to morals for support I’ma keep on keeping at it ‘til I’ve got the perfect score I’ll never give up, never give in Trials tearing me up, wearing me thin While everything’s tough, I’ll let it sink in I keep at it cuz I love it, nothing’s better than this [Verse 3] Don’t be a phony, don’t be the lonely ‘fraid kid Don’t be the only homie who’s roaming through the vacant, homes And those who know me know I’m solely dedicated To what I’ve put my faith in, but do I know when to say quit? Sometimes I think of me as older and rapping Like maybe forty and married and telling stories to bratty Annoying 4-year-olds, over cold leftovers and asking: “Should I have put the pen down and pretended I’m happy?” Nahh, this is what I love to do, you shun me? I won’t fuck with you These fuckers in their 20’s are bumping nothing like my fucking tunes “What’s with you?” Maybe I don’t give a fuck what others do Because I love my fucking crew and all I need’s a trusty few Thanks Support Tha Underground, UOT, and Diezel All my Followers and Likes, Heath and Mo, my people For keeping me a free-flowing breathing focused freakshow I do this cuz I fucking love it, even though these scenes don’t know

[Chorus] No I ain’t DC, but DC made me I grew up in MD, but strayed from the lady Now I claim C-Ville, but C-Ville’s shaky So I don’t know where the fuck I’m coming from lately DC, to Bmore, to VA, now relay We need some resources, come on, now replay [Verse 1] I used to wanna move down to Charleston, SC But what I had going down there was like “Forget Tisse” So I let them Second Sunday citizens forget me And I relocated down to VA, now I’m neck-deep In vanity plates, dammit why can’t I behave Like all them DMB fans who I bet cram UVA? But I’m a fan of this place, I feel I stand in my space I’ve been planning to keep hammering jams, planning to play But I do work son, fucking two for one And I gotta be honest with y’all, the loops more fun With the spitten bars, but these restaurants’ food’s so YUM Stomach’s hung’ring for another fucking loop, more DRUMS I’m not a college kid, I’m not a socialite I’ve thought a lot of shit that shoulda kept me woke at night But I guess I’ve got a home now that keeps me cozy, right? I gotta get my hometown down with these vocals, aiight? [Verse 2] I’m aware that I’m new to the area, what of it? I never said that I’m above it, never said I run shit I’m having fun, shit, this is what I love, spit- -ting something just to bump when I run to get some grub quick Is this an anthem? Maybe if the fandom Of random enchanted chants would get their hands up This isn’t standup and I’m not a band, punk But I’m coming up in the stands to rock the land, WHAT Astounding like the Blue Ridge Mountains when I do this Bootleg, music, I don’t have to prove shit To clueless, humans, doing what they do You do you, and I’ll do me, so fluid how I spew scripts The awfullest case of the loggerhea ever seen Medically there’s definitely never been amphetamines That get a psyche parallel to where my level’s said to be Yessiree, you ever need your inner ear hit, get at me [Verse 3] You bet I’m in the center of the Lovers’ state, what up Nothing’s coming from the gutter cuz I’m coming from the suburbs But that doesn’t mean that I’ve never had my money troubles fucker No I’ve never been a thug, but why you gotta be so butthurt? Unearth the history, ponder the mystery How did I go from Paleontologist to ripping beats? This is Tisse, just a little kid with vivid dreams Grown up in an adult’s body but still a fickle freak I jumped to C-Ville so quick I didn’t get to breathe I’ve been here for a few months now and I still got shit to see I don’t make a lot of friends, I don’t make drinking memories So this is what I’ve got ‘til the end, its what music meant to me And it’s a shame that hip-hop has got a bad rap Napping in this village just to get up, then its back’s stabbed The people neglect it and artists just accept it as The facts of where they’re at, so here’s Matt to get this back on track