I need a jet stream pattern assessment, go get it And tell me the direction that the fuel tank is headed Scram jet packs straps attached to my back Rocket exhaust melt skin off like wet wax Call sign Tom Cat, master ace of aerial combat I double-time out to the tarmac Fog covers the launch pad Order ATC to fall back, but maintain visual contacts Switch to radar, innovation navigational star map I won't need to travel beyond that My jet contrails so long that, It can be seen in time zones eight hours apart by NORAD Bow waves are made when I sweep my arms back To fast track to the lunar surface's dark patch The darkest part of the Moon where ISS2 was parked at Inside onyx black alien artifacts Well guarded in the event of a chartered attack The outpost is nothing more than a trap The red planet approach close, I know perigee and impact Phobos is controlled by the Dracs Deimos is the most underrated of the pack It decimates NEA's more than double its mass A solar max melts polar caps I notice that think tanks with closed minds miss unknown facts Satellites track and match the stats, statistics start to stack I'm a man of science, not rap With actionable impulse to act when I can’t relax I work hard but play harder in fact My rose garden attracts rats, I sit back and listen to jazz and smoke hash in a mineral bath I meditate, slightly awake, the moon rays interpermeate my physical state I gaze into space The light waves race and shift shape, colors escape I concentrate on eight frequency rates The body begins to numb as the spirit elevates But wait, I’m interrupted by a buzzer at my front gate Closed circuit surveillance showed me a face How entertaining, special agents came to visit my estate “Miss Moneypenny, bring me a plate, a cup of tea, and my terry-cloth robe, Then show them in to me, I’ll wait” He walked in with a blank face, I calmly remarked, “You’re late” He responded with a strong handshake Miss Moneypenny returned with eggs and pancakes I offered them a seat, standing up, looked so out of place He kindly obliged, but the other two continued to stand Folded their hands, and gave me the nod The silence was so profound, that even soft sound seems loud With ambient music in the background I slurped when I sipped my tea, it was hot I chomped when I chewed my chow, it was not In slow motion the silence was broken, you could hear a pin drop He said, “You cannot save Hip Hop” I said why not? I sold mixtapes to buy stock I’ve been researching and developing a spitbox Rap is deeply rooted in the music generation I can prove it, but it doesn’t constitute publication I swear the Great Bear entered the Dragon’s Lair I was there in the center of St. Petersburg Square Assigned as a silent observer, but I witnessed a murder Took a picture of the body and a burner Circa the time, you called me from Burma In Port Charlotte Florida, say you were in a coastal corridor And that’s what you call help? Eight months of Camp Kill Ya’ Self couldn’t rehabilitate what I felt And now, here you are, in my backyard Accusing me for being an outlaw for my bars? I ain’t got nothing for ya, I’ll call my controller, You call your employers, they can talk to my lawyers He got up, and turned his back on me and said, “I’ll be back homie” I said you better bring an army He said, “You don’t want war” I called Moneypenny on the intercom and said, “Baby, show them to the door” To be continued, stay tuned for more Secret dialogue from the Merchant of Metaphors…
I need a jet stream pattern assessment, go get it And tell me the direction that the fuel tank is headed Scram jet packs straps attached to my back Rocket exhaust melt skin off like wet wax Call sign Tom Cat, master ace of aerial combat I double-time out to the tarmac Fog covers the launch pad Order ATC to fall back, but maintain visual contacts Switch to radar, innovation navigational star map I won't need to travel beyond that My jet contrails so long that, It can be seen in time zones eight hours apart by NORAD Bow waves are made when I sweep my arms back To fast track to the lunar surface's dark patch The darkest part of the Moon where ISS2 was parked at Inside onyx black alien artifacts Well guarded in the event of a chartered attack The outpost is nothing more than a trap The red planet approach close, I know perigee and impact Phobos is controlled by the Dracs Deimos is the most underrated of the pack It decimates NEA's more than double its mass A solar max melts polar caps I notice that think tanks with closed minds miss unknown facts Satellites track and match the stats, statistics start to stack I'm a man of science, not rap With actionable impulse to act when I can’t relax I work hard but play harder in fact My rose garden attracts rats, I sit back and listen to jazz and smoke hash in a mineral bath I meditate, slightly awake, the moon rays interpermeate my physical state I gaze into space The light waves race and shift shape, colors escape I concentrate on eight frequency rates The body begins to numb as the spirit elevates But wait, I’m interrupted by a buzzer at my front gate Closed circuit surveillance showed me a face How entertaining, special agents came to visit my estate “Miss Moneypenny, bring me a plate, a cup of tea, and my terry-cloth robe, Then show them in to me, I’ll wait” He walked in with a blank face, I calmly remarked, “You’re late” He responded with a strong handshake Miss Moneypenny returned with eggs and pancakes I offered them a seat, standing up, looked so out of place He kindly obliged, but the other two continued to stand Folded their hands, and gave me the nod The silence was so profound, that even soft sound seems loud With ambient music in the background I slurped when I sipped my tea, it was hot I chomped when I chewed my chow, it was not In slow motion the silence was broken, you could hear a pin drop He said, “You cannot save Hip Hop” I said why not? I sold mixtapes to buy stock I’ve been researching and developing a spitbox Rap is deeply rooted in the music generation I can prove it, but it doesn’t constitute publication I swear the Great Bear entered the Dragon’s Lair I was there in the center of St. Petersburg Square Assigned as a silent observer, but I witnessed a murder Took a picture of the body and a burner Circa the time, you called me from Burma In Port Charlotte Florida, say you were in a coastal corridor And that’s what you call help? Eight months of Camp Kill Ya’ Self couldn’t rehabilitate what I felt And now, here you are, in my backyard Accusing me for being an outlaw for my bars? I ain’t got nothing for ya, I’ll call my controller, You call your employers, they can talk to my lawyers He got up, and turned his back on me and said, “I’ll be back homie” I said you better bring an army He said, “You don’t want war” I called Moneypenny on the intercom and said, “Baby, show them to the door” To be continued, stay tuned for more Secret dialogue from the Merchant of Metaphors…
