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Cataract (ft. Pangolin)

from Sleep On It by E. Oks

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lyrics

(Intro: E. Oks)
Mmm. God dam...
You feel that?

(Verse 1: E. Oks)
Tell your hater friends to make no mistake: I matter.
To those of you who think I spit great: I’m flattered.
I make mics shatter, brain’s type scattered,
Still it seems I’m made to make cake like batter.
Understand punk, I can’t stop until you
Have got your hands up like a clock at twelve noon
Or midnight, I ignite with my cool words,
RIP mics (Mikes) just like I killed Bloomberg,
So to all y’all in my way: I’ll get you dudes served,
Cause I'm all about my J (jay) just like the blue bird
As a rhymer it’s like you got blinders on, your views are narrow,
Mindless man looking for brain like yous a scarecrow
Thinking that you fly when your not like a lead sparrow,
That verse was wak-as-fuck so wrap it up like a dead pharaoh…
And if you ain’t laughing dummy, it’s probably cause you didn’t get that
So go ask your mummy

(Interlude: Maddie)
Wanna hear the sound,
So here we go,
Feel it all around,
That endless flow

(Verse 2: E. Oks)
I’m nice like Bose, beats, and an Ipod.
Flow heats and then I’m gone:
Evaporated slaughter.
After which you rapping kids
Won’t have to wait that long cause
Your beach is just my pond;
Plus I go deeper on my songs
Y’all to busy drowning to get
No feature on my song.
See I’m heading for a metaphor,
But they’ll never get it
So my head’s forgetting what I said it for.
They can’t see through the window of their cataracts
And say, “E. man you should stick to battle raps
Using (w)easy punch lines, we know how to laugh at that
We’ll clap and yap ‘bout how your every rap is crack!”
Na man I’ve mastered that
Plus I’m sick of rationed-rap
I’d rather be the itch that fiends are scratching at…
I say that, then two weeks later I’m back to battle rap
Stuck in the mud, loving the blood-sucking
Like a rabid bat.
I can’t control where I (eye) is like your cock-eyed friend.
B, I make similes but just not like them,
I’m cleaning up the game with this mop-like pen,
You think your verse is hot, but it’s not (snot) like phlegm.
In battles I never run ‘way (runway) like helicopters,
Can’t think of what to say? Lemme be your teleprompter:
My raps range from deranged to hella proper,
Whenever you want a verse, man, I gotcha!
Where it be ‘bout blunts, women, or vodka,
Running into the cops, or chomping down on a ladka,
As long as you got the guap, I’ll write you anything you want
Right on the spot about how you make the top of a Mazda drop
But deep down your not an obnoxious cock, instead you’re a gentleman,
Man I can get your back kind of like how
Eminem’s got the Doc!

(Outro: Maddie)
This is what we got:
Here. Now.
This is what we got here.
This is what we got.
Hear now:
This is what we got.

credits

from Sleep On It, released January 25, 2012
Verses Written/Rapped: E. Oks
Chorus & Outro Written/Sung: Maddy Reagan
Produced: Ratatat; (Re)Mixed by Zack Cohen

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E. Oks Manhattan, New York

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