BLACKOUT THEORY [Intro] Fuck it. Woooooah baby. ! [Hook] Blackout, blacked out, took bad routes, Mad thoughts, fast talk, never gonna back down. Lights out, nightfall, everybody act now, Whole room goes quiet when the bass gets slapped down. Blackout, blacked out, black with a red tint, Head full of hell with a heavenly sentence. Dead calm, dead stare, deadly intentions, I don’t need a weapon, got a mouth full of vengeance. [Verse 1] I’m a sick individual with a cynical visual, Critical thinking and criminal syllables. Twisting the literal into subliminal, Making the typical sound like a ritual. Mind full of chemicals, thoughts getting physical, Vision is vivid, the feeling is visceral. Something is moving beneath the peripheral, Everything beautiful turns into miserable. Fuck being reasonable, fuck being readable, Nothing about what I’m thinking is feasible. Eating the beat like the rhythm is edible, Spitting incredible shit that’s regrettable. I got a habit of grabbing the madness, Attaching the damage to words that I practice. I’m back in the attic with blackened-out candles, A match and a manuscript wrapped in a casket. Open the package, the pages are savage, The language is tragic, the message is graphic. I mastered the craft of dismantling patterns, Then scattered the fragments and called it a classic. I’m mentally active, aggressively passive, A walking disaster with excellent manners. I’m laughing at shadows that dance on the plaster, Then snapping right back to the matter that matters. [Hook] Blackout, blacked out, took bad routes, Mad thoughts, fast talk, never gonna back down. Lights out, nightfall, everybody act now, Whole room goes quiet when the bass gets slapped down. Blackout, blacked out, black with a red tint, Head full of hell with a heavenly sentence. Dead calm, dead stare, deadly intentions, I don’t need a weapon, got a mouth full of vengeance. [Verse 2] I got a blackened imagination, A fascination with abominations. A thousand variations of hallucinations, A conversation with my own damn creation. I’m breaking the cadence, replacing the placement, Erasing the faces from faded arrangements. The basement is shaking, the pavement is cracking, The walls are collapsing, the ceiling is vacant. I came with a venomous vocabulary, Something unsettling, something unsanitary. Buried a thought in a mental cemetery, Watched it crawl out when the atmosphere varied. Very extraordinary, barely even necessary, Every other word becoming more than legendary. Heavy with the metaphors, never been ordinary, Every fucking syllable a verbal obituary. Wait. I don’t need a priest, I don’t need a preacher, I don’t need a lesson from a self-appointed teacher. I don’t need a blessing from a counterfeit believer, I can see the contradiction in the words of every speaker. Speaking of the devil, I been speaking to the speakers, Turning up the treble till the windows start to weaken. Got a wicked little rhythm with a venomous demeanor, And a head full of nightmares getting louder every evening. [Bridge] Tick, tick, tick, let the clock run. Click, click, click, hear the lock shut. Six, six, six, what a fucked-up Way to make a whole room go silent. Tick, tick, tick, let the clock run. Quick, quick, quick, better keep up. Sick, sick, sick with the rhythm, I’m a problem when the bass starts hitting. [Verse 3] I’m a product of the panic and a master of mechanics, Got a manic little habit of attacking every pattern. I’m a savage with the grammar, got a hammer for the standards, Every bar another fracture in the fabric of the planet. I’m erratic, automatic, cinematic with the damage, Mathematical with madness, calculating every angle. Got a thousand little thoughts and every thought becomes a battle, Then I turn ’em into lyrics and I let the fucking track handle ’em. I don’t rap about a fantasy, I manufacture imagery, A gallery of agony, an anthology of misery. A symphony of sinister, a ministry of mystery, The minute that I finish, they’ll be questioning the history. I’m a walking contradiction with a twisted intuition, Got a dictionary dripping with forbidden definitions. Every sentence is a symptom of a different disposition, Every rhythm is a prison that I built without permission. Now I’m picking every lock with a syllable and a thought, Got a million little demons in a metaphorical box. Put the box inside a coffin, put the coffin in a vault, Then I opened up the vault and let the fucking beat drop. [Final Hook] BLACKOUT! BLACKED OUT! TOOK BAD ROUTES! MAD THOUGHTS! FAST TALK! NEVER GONNA BACK DOWN! LIGHTS OUT! NIGHTFALL! EVERYBODY ACT NOW! WHOLE ROOM GOES QUIET WHEN THE BASS GETS SLAPPED DOWN! Blackout, blacked out, black with a red tint, Head full of hell with a heavenly sentence. Dead calm, dead stare, deadly intentions, I don’t need a weapon, got a mouth full of vengeance. [Outro] Mind gone. Eyes open. Cold blooded. Mind gone. Eyes open. Cold blooded. Wooooooooooooooo BABY!!!
