BURNT PRIDE
T. Shimura

Burnt Pride is a crazy thing
But now, what does it take to make you feel me concrete?
I ain't your maitre'd, I ain't on pain relief
This ain't make believe, I ain't on no ankle leash
I tried speaking in a rational manner
Tried to get my point across using regular me(ans)
I even patterned my delivery
Similarly after something you had said
So that you would not interpret me differently, but
My head's on a tree swing
Your debt's still lingering
While you erect gates with codes really nobody knows
I ask, "Why's it always closed?"
I'm told it's my approach
Well let's suppose
just for the sole sake of argument that
despite the spite and all the ill will you're harboring
that me, Lyrics Born, all this power that I'm harnessing
That I didn't come in here to no conquering
That I came in here to do a little bargaining
Grease key people do some apple polishing
Maybe hail a cab for my local congressman
so he can hook me with the landlord in parliament
Then I'll set up a booth, hand-pick my operatives
Train 'em up, send my squad of garbagemen
To spread the good will, all in the environment
and all the false doctrine and all the carcinogens, but now
I gotta be wise 'bout who I'm targeting
The key is make the young folks offerings
so that they don't become adults that are demonstrative
or else my chances of retirement go spiraling
So then I work my way into their subconsciousness
I tell them always use caution, now, cautiousness, because
Are you absolutely positive that you can make it without us and be prosperous?
You need to look at me and my accomplishments
Hey, I got an idea, let's start a partnership!
It'll be just like livin' in a Harlequin
And we'll feed our pond fishies ostriches
we'll feed the starved kiddies self-doubt lozenges
Just peeling layer after layer off their confidence
until it's one planet us homogenous
versus one gumball you optimists!!
Burn pride!! Burn pride!!
Burn pride!! Burn Pride!!
Burnt Pride is a crazy thing
What does it take to make you feel me concrete?
I ain't your maitre'd, I ain't on pain relief
this ain't make believe, I ain't on no ankle leash
I tried speaking in a rational manner
Tried to get my point across using conventional means
I even patterned my delivery similarly after something you had said
so that you would not interpret me differently, but-
My head's on a tree swing
Your debt's still lingering
While you erect gates with codes really nobody knows
I ask, "Why's it always closed?"
I'm told it's my approach
Okay, what's appropriate your royal holiness?
Shall I fan you with foliage in front of an audience?
Hi-five Napoleon?
Lo-five a Scorpion?
Then and only then would there ever be an opening
Well, that's just your big, wet blanket of power
You weight us down with double-talk until we think we're insane
But if you're trying to save your pride
You're trying to save your pride
As far as I'm concerned that shit is going down in flames
With your piddly-ass riddles
You think I ain't mentally apt
I see you slither 'round my ankle like I ain't gonna react
No more me nibblin' on a bridle while you're kickin' my abs
No more "everything's Ore-Ida" when I can't even stand
No more fiddling with the maps
No more belittling the past
No more nonsense when my questions is asked
No more concessions for an ego so fragile
Any self-expression chips away at your castle
Your pride's your damsel, you built your barricade
I was so careful
I danced around your insecurities
on your schedule
Ignored all your absurdities
But all the people
you parody with that dogshit your nurturing
Then you have the nerve to take certain shit personally
I didn't even speak a handful and I encroached on your territory
You need therapy there mister Pharisee
seriously, 'cause apparently your circuitry's terribly damaged
How 'bout a nice hot kerosene bath
I'll come back
I'll serenade you with flaming arrows oh serpentine
Your pride needs refurbishing
I'll extend you that courtesy like-
"Hi, this is Lyrics Born servicing!"
Burnt Pride!! Burnt Pride!!

PRODUCED BY LYRICS BORN
BACKED BY VIRGO ROYALTY
Bass: Big Otions
Drums: "Ill" Al Ballard
Organs: K-Versus
Guitar: "Mad" Shawn Strummy
Tambourine: Mack B-Dog
Horns: Rich & Cliff
Mouth Harp: Zen E. Bo
Scratches: TURNTABLIST DISK
Sampler: Lawrence Born