- ©2006 Anti-
- Vocals:Alexandrah Santon
- Vocals:Tonya Combs
VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
our bond is whole. im half percent of a circle. one is the x chromosome, the second is Y.
genetically we carry on one or the other to multiples the same organically. un-theoretically, im particles, DNA in sky, whom partakes in pie r squared. I fraction cubes to study within a cubicle reading square books of circular pairs plus pupils. time will fix the tour in each that has a biological tic while my astrological history defines its fossils of both from half to whole. remember the circle, searching self by three point one four-(heart, soul, and mind). all of which i question it’s ability. why and how does it function? we keep fertile with fertility, (the newly born) and walk storms of the expensively priced uniform. but never no more. night sheds by dream wars chanting “save sacrifice for the hollow body gone.” chrome will shield some plastic thought. law is looked upon in dyslexia state to form the wal(L). those on top literally throw stereotypes on all yall. bitch used to be a dog, now dog is man’s best friend cause it can follow command. notice command can’t be without the word man, the keyword for mankind. wooo man! what about the woman. I guess she remains a bitch and mother earth preserves and then becomes a planet. if it really is a man’s world then he must’ve planned it.
man is a man which manhandles mankind mentoring mental(s), mandating minutes monthly. mentioning manipulating messages of famine manning men, commanding mannerisms, managing manly mandatory maneuvers or else
many will label you and woman, too
which would you rather be? womb or wounded?
inclusion’s excluded from important and potent reference,
even useful uses other than household duties.
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
woman’s wished existence is washed away with war
when wicked wizardry’s wrestled the earth from its core,
goddess practice from its axis…
our bond is whole, I’m the other half percent of the circle,
so why do I not collect my equally earned respect?
blame is on society, blame it on me, or blame it on neglect
but I will not accept it anymore, what’s in store for those of you
in competition with ideal vision is that I refuse your place for me of being used
I’m not your tits and ass in videos, your makeup, high-heel, pantyhose-wearing
bitch to get with, I’m not your pornographic misfit sitting still,
til you don’t need we around
when I was created, no other was denied
addition’s never missed with those in touch enough for life
you tried to read between the lines of already-fatal flaws,
written as law, and spit as right –
but what’s wrong, is that you’ve all believed it for so long,
my word’s no longer prophecy, just an independent woman’s song.
I’m speaking out against twists of truth, but to so many people
I’m just another pretty voice,
I want a truce, let’s speculate you could witness weary women spilling
out their hearts, would you change for the better every thing it is you do?
do you have courage enough to speak the truth,
alter your ego and express the proof?
give credit to the blessings that originally matched,
tap into you, and come thru at last…
VERSE 3 (Swamburger & Alexandrah)
since sin is tense my sentence feels ten times stronger than ten cents for my every reply against your sin like violence and mis-education. false representation that’s costing a nation of children lost in fallacy gaps. fantasy maps without path and teachers that don’t know the math. now you can be good but don’t front like you bad cause others will follow your path. and what will you tell them cool? watch what I say but not what I do? intention is half of the rule when you mention or demand attention to carry the vision of highest intentions beyond comprehension or greatest inventions. you ask me to listen and so now I do. but your deeds don’t match the catch of your phrase. that’s why I don’t understand you… that’s why I don’t understand you.
when will we get to the end of intense, sentence, vengeance, dense sense of intelli-gents?
send me your answer right now.
optimistic plus sizes, berated by accepted belittling false-statementals
under ceased and overweight, they gain permanence worthy of notation
by struggling artist wanna-bes getting paid to do the same;
it creates painful extractions of reality from conversation, substance from relation,
sincerity from grace
a magazine of imagery’s distribution won’t reinstate justifying prideful’s
reason vengeance isn’t hate
beauty in falsehood, opinion as such, love as coincidence, consequence with luck
because the effect can’t off-balance a message sent,
not by our people, but through them; certain, earnest, and collected.