Spit First, Transcribe Later Chapter 9

Good evening this is Loki of Literati it's 1:21 / and I'm in to spend the sum. / This whole day my mind has been running on everything. / Spending 100's and 1's, / taking care of all my debts, / looking to collect, / trying to clear all my problems too. / There's not enough options, / too many obstacles, really trying not to pop off dude. / Alright, let's see what this flow can do. / 1 -2, / that's not a mic check, / that's a bite fest, / I'm the tightest who jests. / You wanna battle? / Get pretzeled and addled? / I once turned Quetzacoatl / into a headdress! / I take credit in every blitz. / Never edit when I let it rip. / A collection of edgy sets / to hedge all of my bets. / Unrehearsed to divide / all disguise / and disperse on the fly, / the worst who lie. / And the best who live. / The ones cursed to die. / The global total I share in every breath I give. / Never rest on getting by. / Set to flip the lid. / Socially aware is relative. / So when you roll his hot solar flares are a sedative. / That's prolly not the best I can spit. / I just can't seem to get this shit / off my chest enough to keep looking back / into the past / and why am I drowning in debt? / Why do I have so much wrath? / I keep thinking that my last / bad situation-relationship / ending up making me sick / and that all this art / I'm doing is supposed to be revealing the deep part / of my healing and my heart / is supposed to be re-growing / and I know that that's showing / because I feel better every day / and it's easy to stay / positive and play. / And every week I visit my homies and Queens / and I go roaming and on every scene / I find it so easy to produce smiles / and every time I step out to the dance floor and light up the tiles? / Everyone ends up getting a headful of sense / from my presence / and that pleasance / ends up staying forever. But every now and then, / there are days like today when I wake up feeling bent / and I can't seem to get my mind / around all the times / I was misspent / and found myself mistreated / and... not so much outmatched but willingly beated. / More than once I held back because I didn't want others to end up feeling so easily defeated.

It's a trip when you end up giving your victories away / because it's a humble play. / And you look back on your own history / and find your mind is crumbling, y'know? It's really not the best way to remain / in your brain / and I'm supposed to train / to be more positive and true / but still raw in everything I do. / So if I'm feeling the neg, negative, / I won't just leg, leg a bit / and try to run it off. / No, fuck no! I'm gonna' run the cost / and run the sum, and stay the path. / I mean you gotta know the life math. / You gotta know the real math / as well. You gotta know the strife path, / but you also gotta know how to stay tight and fast.

So that's just my sense of wince. / Have a complimentary mental rinse. / Bent relevant development. / Misspent elements / compel my sense. / Sensibilities. Numb to pity. / Tongue agility. / Just keep spitting. I'm unwilling / to stop as long as there's something hot / in my heart. I slay my art, / play my part. / I don't say I'm hard. / (snorting laugh) Because I've known many colder and more gone. / Soldiers and ex-cons. / But I stay far from average everyday. / I'm a fallen star, savagely leveraging my ace. / That's the grace of my way. / The pace of my spray. / I love the taste of disarray. / So I find laughter in disaster. / I come alive after / to chase the chaos tatters. / To find the way of patterns. / That's my daily chatter. / Building on a breeze. Teeter-tottering through. / If my honesty bothers you?

Well I got clout to ride / and a mouth that vibes. / Southside / was my mother and water was my father / so I'm only fathering the blues, / the overpaid dues, the liquid truths. / What's up with you? / That's why even those who wish I was through, / can't picture me without realizing they're missing moves. / That's not just something I say dude. / I'm the hidden groove. Empathy proves. / The missing link to switching shoes. / Listen to... what's inside and due. / Birth verses. We're just conduits, me and you. / Cosmos loving on me and you. / With tongues as lube. / So what have you got? If you can flow hot / without blowing your top? / Show me something nobody else caught!

'Cause that's really why I spit this way / every single day. / I'm just trying to run the puns / and see. What comes from the math and not just the word sum. / But you see through those two? / The math and the word sum is something like the old Hebrew. / Some kind of mathematical language / that I can practically understand / but I can't magically comprehend. / Without preamble I can see these angles / and it just breaks down because ultimately everything is patterns / and maybe mathematics is living, growing. That's why it's always shattering and changing. And the more discoveries / I end up uncovering for free / end up showing me / what's above and below. / And I love just taking that in flow / and seeing what's the true hidden?

So, everyone's onto some kind of riddle / that nobody else caught. And I like to whittle / those until all that's left is just one tiny spot, / y'know? / Dot dot dot. / What's the next bit / after that ellipse? / I don't know. / Not so much running out of wit / but I sometimes seem to be running out of originality. / That's the anomaly of this animality. / That everything's been done before. / So what's the whole score, / the whole point of re-creating notes and ideas is that you're trying to create more. / I mean you're not biting off what someone else had. / Writing is mostly re-writing and good comes from bad. / If everything's been done before / then those puns can be re-assembled, once more / in whole new ways. The hidden riddles that other people have to say / I try to find in the gaps, / the pregnant pauses, the lapse, / the odds that just seem to fit, / the probability shifts. / But the hardest trip / is when my number-crunching mind / can't find the punchline, / just the set-up because chaos won't let up / nor will it lay off / and those frets that others have to disrupt? / Yeeeah, they flow hot. / And I can't stop listening. / Can't stop avoiding it. Can't stop avoiding it? Wait, that's a double negative. / Now, I can't just let that phrase live. / I gotta' change that. I'm aware of it but I can't avoid it. / It's like clairvoyance. / The voices just keep coming / and the noises keep running / and everything automatically keeps building because just as the second Law of Thermodynamics / says no matter how strong you are you will be burned and handled by this shit. / Entropy always increases. Okay. But at the least so does complexity. / That's why the best of me / plays like a sex-cartographer, lexicographer. / For those of you who are still climbing after / that bit of vernacular, / that wasn't just a rhyme. Sex-cartographer, lexicographer refers to writing sex maps and dictionaries. / So the frets that lap so quick from me? / So slick and wary like Ambrose Bierce's Devil's Dictionary. / That's just different levels / of seeing everything connected from sapiosexuality / to saying "Whoa. My gaping hole in my head takes in all of reality." / And it spills in so many kaleidoscopic sprays / that my hyper-optic focused way... / sometimes slides. / So when I think I'm gonna be so spry, and fly / I think I end up being myopic instead, by the by. / As in, hocus pocus, / I'm overly focused. / And it's a major decision / to flow when you got laser vision / so every thing that you have to go / won't stop until you've reached that point. At the very top, the peak, y'know? / That's why I talk about climbing the ladder of the Divine / every time I chatter away my mind. / Anyways, this was Chapter 9 / of Spit First, Transcribe Later. /And I hope all of you faders / can vibe to that. Catch ya'.