Chorus do you really know who I am?
I ask you this
I ask you this
and do you really know who I am?
I ask you this
I ask you this
do you really know who I am?
I ask you this
I ask you this
and do you really know who I am?
I ask you this
tell ‘em Glen
Bobby
my name is
Antix
What you think about the lies
that I
have spitted I
know there is no music
in the musings of the simple minded
and you can find me
with my fingers on the pulse
f**k a pope
I speak when I convulse
epileptic rap
like an attack
of the thoughts in my mind when I try to told ‘em back
and yeah you judge me
censor me
then love me
but f**k that
I'd rather have Kesha on a track
ghost vision
I move through the system
unheard
coz you people just don’t listen
but you will now
ah yes you will
the great unwashed
now dote on my appeal
and no I’m not an arrogant man
well yes I am
its ok
be yourself
in time they’ll understand
you can the call me Rushdie of rap
the Hitchens of smacking you bitches out my kitchens
the Dawkins of stalking you awkward little orphans
the selfish gene keeps me talking
and I’m walking big steps like a sasquatch
there’s two types in life
the ‘aves and the ‘ave nots
I fall like a black stone
strewn from the night sky
you can’t explain me
so kneel at my wayside
stand like a stone wall
you bob your head to
head sprung
automaton
'til you bled through
life trickles down my eyes coz I bleed sense
run the bulls
kill the picador
I see red
so here I am
the voice of youth
the unspoken
I sing this one for you
so wake and bake in Alighierian inferno
the molten
state of your pace
coz you burn slow
and me
the man on the pulpit
illuminator
get your mother**king eyes open
time ticks
to the rhythm of the rich
the poor wait around and just watch the s**t click
time slows to the rhythm that I bend
the world waits around to watch Antix represent
it is with no regret that I look upon my life
old enough to know
that I’m young enough to die
and old enough to know
that my music will provoke
an army of the ignorant
one can only hope
I’m sick and tired of the ignorant admired
the foolish on the pedestal
rented out for hire
so dah
dah
dah
dah
dah
dah
f**k Sarah Palin
and Glen Beck
and Bill O'Reilly
custom-made flows
I compose for the circumstance
rap circles around you
you call it the circum-dance
my whole world come together in formations
synchronized
symphonic arrangements
I’m making
fluidic flowings
I Figaro these poems
they f**king fly out of my face
like a Boeing
so kick
a-lick
a-lick
a lot of clever s**t
ballistics that I spit
come intrinsic like my wit
I love this music
I was put here to protect it
Antix
cleaning out the s**t
like I’m septic
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