Nothing to see here.

(more…)

Yeah. Cyberdevil! This one's all about me... and WyteNoiz. Made the beat. Yeah. It's pretty sweet. Ey...

...

I rise, wish I rose with the mountain sun,
Cause I'm dying, drawing air into old lungs,
Each day waking up like: yo here I come,
But I'm tired, drawing air into old lungs

I ruse. I muse. I wonder bout my life.
I want to have it better want to have it real nice.
But is there really room in the world for that kind of guy?
Greed makes us feed our vices.

Realizing slow that it's not what nice is.
Riches. Cars. That's not what life is.
Nice is having a darkness at night it's
Looking at the stars without closing your eyelids, and if you do not thinking about ISIS

But all this light pollution is making me tired and lifeless... so tired...

( And there's no way to go back!
Everything's about how you act!
If I can't say it in life!
Then maybe I can say it in rap?

And everything must go down!
But I'm tired of all of this crap!
There's no certainty or truth and that's!
The only absolute fact. )

But I believe I feel free cause I'm still a dreamer,
Spend my whole life trying to redeem my old idols,
Everything falls back to my ego,
And I strive to get bigger and rise for survival,
At times when it all feels feeble,
I turn to steel and just wheel out my demons,
Open my rhymebook, I used to showers,
And scream out my feeling, but now I can feel THIS.

...

I rise, wish I rose with the morning dew,
And did all of those things I'm supposed to do,
Exercised early and wrote haikus, with a cup of tea,
Feeling clean, feeling cool.

I rest. I stress. I never feel focused.
Go to work make sure my boss won't notice.
Maybe get a groove and go off and get lots done,
Maybe fall through and resume and it's not fun.

Realizing now that reality's twisted.
Everyone around me's trying to get lifted.
All of these leaders. Never any gifted ones.
Except ones who die young and it's

Sad how all the progress is halted by all these dumb men. I'm tired of trying... I'm tired again...

( And there's no way to go back!
Everything's about how you act!
If I can't say it in life!
Then maybe I can say it in rap?

And everything must go down!
But I'm tired of all of this crap!
There's no certainty or truth and that's!
The only absolute fact. )

But I believe I feel free cause I'm still a dreamer,
Spend my whole life trying to redeem my old idols,
Everything falls back to my ego,
And I strive to get bigger and rise for survival,
At times when it all feels feeble,
I turn to steel and just wheel out my demons,
Open my rhymebook, I used to showers,
And scream out my feeling, but now I can feel THIS.

...

Yeah! I can feel this! Cartwheel through the streets doing wheelies!
If everybody could maybe we wouldn't need greed and would never do anything that was not any good.

You! You can get there! You can rise through the ash like a wet hair!
I don't know what kind of simile that is, but assimilate practice, learn backflips, and you won't go batshit

Crazy! At the world we live in. And maybe you won't get so tired... yeah... maybe you won't get so tired... yeah... maybe...

But maybe I'd better take this back. It's about your ACTIONS!
Not about how you act.

Sometimes you just get a head of yourself.

(more…)

Is there something you wanna say to me?
While I'm aiming to be the greatest emcee ever? Haters leave.
It's not like I've been slept on. It's more like...
I've been so deep in sleep.

But I'm waking up now! So I can eat my dreams.
Have you seen me? I'm like a neon street.
I'm like a GOD, you can call that blasphemy but...
I'm not sure I believe in Eve.

Though that's not why I call me the Cyberdevil -
It's so you'll know you're in my domain if I say go to hell y'all!
I don't want to fuel hate, so cite this thing:
If I cast you out that means I invite you in.

Here's my castle. Hear my castle crumble.
It's made of cookies. Rookies better rumble.
Down the stairs and humble themselves in a rain of dumbbells.
Mumble mumble on. Ain't a dumb one but I've written like the diet that I'd run on.

Yeah I was a fat man too.
Ice cream won't be the bearing beam in my Kathmandu.
The whole world will be my utopia.
My life will be an elevator, one only going up.

To the city up in the cloudscape.
All so brittle and bound by timestates.
Our moment here in the cosmos... a miracle.
We'd be the umbilical were it not us.

I hope we can keep it safe. Not blow it up.
Look back and say: those were the days
Of lies, of high esteem and rivalry.
Nothing... is the survival fee.

I feel we're headed somewhere no life should be.
But music changes minds, and I won't go quietly.
To the sky or to the castle.
The winner takes it all but that's by hard work not by raffle.

Sinners don't take the fall unless we cast them out and crash their party.
Go out and hunt them on a last safari.
Am I a hippy, maybe Rastafari?
Trippy life is but no, I just glow like Mata Hari.

You can see in the bashful lands,
Where we make our little castles in the cast in sand,
And have a blast until the hands of time,
Come in and blow away our castles now that's a crime.