Channels Only - Artisans in Brass

Humannequins, dressed up, fake smiles, abandonment of self Traded in for someone else on the shelf At half price It comes to them customers I act nice Only cause I gotta if I wanna get my cash right But that's life, at cash wrap like "You want a membership?" Wearing advertisements like a fucking pendant, shit It's "Push, push, push," A Stop At Willoughby Gotta keep it moving for my boss's stability Consider me: an entity, existing to serve an industry Big suits make bank, we fighting over pennies It's never enough, always gotta do more Eating in a food court, every break is too short Two more hours until I'm out this place Go home, and dig around in crates Flip a sample, hear what sound it makes Escape to found breaks and pounding bass Escape... Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Humannequins, dressed up, fake smiles abandonment of self Traded in for someone else on the shelf Labeled: Defective. Unable to be effective Ejected like artists opposing the labels directive They want a stable collective Unique thought delays the message "It's elementary", to quote that fabled detective Gotta stay protective of our individuality Understanding us humans define reality A refined analogy, in time, will gradually grow Hoping the flowers we water actually show And naturally so, pack up your chemicals and pesticides Humannequins awaken, arise, or be left to die Inside a plastic carcass, try your best to hide 'Til the face in the mirror's no longer recognized In your plastic carcass, you try your best to hide Until the face in the mirror's no longer recognized Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures Plastic pose, mask the features Mask exposed, plastic creatures

No Tom Foolery Don't rock jewelry So hot, you could see the stove-top cooling me off Y'all all talk, no thought, stupid Even your hardest bars go soft upon scrutiny A few released but spitting dope's not new to me Nowadays I don't even talk shit usually but If you the Boss, then consider this a mutiny And I'll happily be the MC at your eulogy Like Rest In Peace hypothetical rapper I'm sorry your career had to end in disaster But you claimed to be the best, which made me contest Right after a fit of uncontrollable laughter I hit the stage and grabbed the mic Over Bone's homegrown beats, rapping tight Fresh, clean, guaranteed to satisfy Any appetite, like magic I ain't been around the world, but I've been around the block Seen a lot of fools mistake lies for hip hop And I've done enough shows to know how to rock Put the crowd into shock cause my flows don't stop When I'm on fire The type of flame make you wanna Photoshop my name on your flyer It goes K to the S emcee for hire Cop a ticket plus a EP just to keep me from retiring Product of environment Hotboy better call the fireman Wack emcees rapping after me perspiring In spaghetti covered sweaters like we up in 8 mile While I'm smiling, laughing, having a good time Inspiring cats that wish they could rhyme First couple steps out of a billion Believe me when I tell you this is just the beginning KS Joel, master of the ceremony Kind Soul, but I'll hack it up to any phony Rappers in my territory, acting like they spit great Kids make mistakes when they thinking they can step before me I came to take the praise and collect the glory From the supposedly dopest motherfuckers at your set performing Apologies to y'all MCs watching me probably thinking I'm being cocky but dude honestly Not to be rude, but the opposite of you Would be constantly improving hip hop music Stop what you're doing Rocking these wanna be popular tunes is an obvious ruse to reduce loss of approval But it's certainly not gonna stop this crew From knocking thru your "Do Not Disturb" Tossing you and all your garbage tunes to the curb Stomping fools with the words Haunting dudes till there's nothing y'all can do But watch Plot, Mot, and me pop you a new one Dropping knowledge like it's hotter than sriracha in the June sun Keep it Proper we monopolize the groove 120% gotta be the truth if I spit it in the mic Paid dues now we chilling in light, still making moves Keep em hidden in plain sight Better buckle up cause we bout to take flight Aight, peace