Sage Francis

[fox69]

"Not What I Am"

"Not What I Am"


Fuck this sage francis faggot shit
Is this hip hop or a starbucks coffee shop
This is xaul zan, I'll show you how I do it in my neck of the woods

It's like...
You don't have to write a poem
I guess I just hate MCs who act like they're groggy
Grab the microphone
And resuscitate the life of the party
I got a right to be cocky
The girlies want me bad
Throw my blows and hockey dads give me herpes
I'll be mad
You turkeys lolly-gag, emitting the worst stench
I got your mommy gagged
And she's sitting on my workbench
Handed her a wrench
I let her work my nuts a bit
To have her thirst quenched
Yeah I let her take another sip
For the fuck of it I freaked the funk on 45s
Silly suckers think I'll sit just listening to all their jive
I'm the sort of guy to cook your family fix for dinner
I'll make your daughter cry when she wakes up
With some fingers in her
Listen to lynyrd skinner
I'll sell your pretty heart
Now let's tittyfuck while I get naked like iggy pop
She sees my mini-cock
She wants no small man
Runnin around the city block, yellin out...
It's Xaul Zan!
I sip from a tall can and take big gulps
The dodgeball champ, I'm the reason why your kid sulks
Feeding the shit out adults
Ripping the deeds to your house
And I'ma fuck you in your face till you bleed out your mouth
Smooth, not what I am
Rough....Xaul Zan
Smooth, not what I am
Rough....Xaul Zan

 

[fox69]

"Oliver Twisted"

"Oliver Twisted"


Reminiscing of when I was living in fear
Is he here yet?
I feel sweat building on my upper back
Children are under attack
With every question mark
When testing starts
Hearts burn and stomachs knot
Inner organs begin to morph in
To dinnerless orphans
Asking for more things to digest for Oliver
But I love her
You do?
I guess
What part, all of her?
Yeah except when she tempts men
You know those uncontrollable feelings and thoughts except them
Now I accept when she tempts men to extend
Plutonic handshakes and I'm all hung up on sex again
And untrusting is she still talking to him?
I'm hung up I used to be off the hook
Picked up girls and read them motives like an awful book
Put them down
Fast but gently to maintain the grass entry level position
Last century I had several decisions
To make before the new millennium
To secure finances
As for dollars did I make a mill or any?
Check the public record freedom of information
Act One Scene Two Third page Fourth paragraph
Fifth center sixth word seventh letter G
Seems like I ain't make any
And I'm stuck clutching on to my very last penny
Loafer searching every crevice of the sofa
Warning you not to get any closer
I need some space to breathe
And he's making me
Shovel the snow cut the grass and rake the leaves
Take these responsibilities and shove 'em
These working boots weren't made for running
Your landscaping business
My hands are shaking hidden fists
Holding a dead fish
Breaking limp wrists
And listening for lisps
Smack speech impediments out your mouth piece
I'm all alone in the force to home
Killing myself with the house keys

 

[fox69]

"Once Upon A Blood Moon"

"Once Upon A Blood Moon"


[Verse 1:]
He offered her the world, but came up short
The nastiest of storms made him settle on a city with a port
He watched ships sail by in the middle of July
He wrote notes on paper boats, sat and waited for replies
Hope floats, even when it's on fire
Especially when it's on fire, but the smoke makes him tired
Took a blade to the chest like he was opening a body bag
"Sir he's still alive in there" well Christ then, remove the tag
What's it say? It says "Fold along the lines
And set me free," not on fire, cause oftentimes
When I set myself free, this empty
Bag of a body tends to get burned in effigy
I've lost the energy to fight off the flames
I blow it off like it's all just a game, all the same
Wish he wouldn't write himself out of the picture
It's a beautiful lotion that you got
When there's someone there to share it with you
This is why she can't have nice things
He was too caught up in work to sign for the nice deliveries that life brings
Now he can't tell if he's dead or not
He said, "I bet I am, and I can prove it." She said "you better not"
This is why she can't have nice things
Because talk is cheap and it was poor communication

[Hook:]
All he wanted to say, on the dock that day
Was "I love you, and I'm sorry," but instead, he just waved
Good bye, and he cried, love
So much he watched the waters rise up
It must have been a changing of the tides, but I've come to assume
It was the changing of a mind, once upon a blood moon

[Verse 2:]
They skimmed rocks for the whole day
He imagined he was throwin' rotten parts of himself that broke away
So he couldn't stop, fascinated by the way they skip up top
Give up and then drop, he sank with them
They convened on the rock bottom and made a decision
They could never raise children, not like this
Not like people who make babies on purpose
That's when he came to the surface, fully intending
To be so strong in his resolve, 'til all of it dissolves
Slippin' through his pruny fingers like this could've been ours
But this is to the offers that can't be followed through with
The water works, the leaky faucet still lost fluids
To the current of the stream that'll always push you from me
To the reoccurring dream that makes reality less ugly
In a picturesque setting, where the world looks airbrushed
Needless to say, words failed us

[Hook:]
On the dock that day, all I wanted to say
Was "I love you, and I'm sorry," but instead, I just waved
Good bye, and I cried, love
So much I watched the waters rise up
It must have been a changing of the tides, that was breaking up our lives
It was a water raged wrinkling time

[Verse 3:]
Yessir, minds are made for the changing, but mine's been deterioratin'
Like the bluffs in the shoreline, where I've been waitin' too exhale
Since the summer when we watched every last one of our friends set sail
And I was the only livin' boy left in Providence
Collecting death certificates from the rest of my documents
Just for origami purposes, I gave 'em to the ocean
But hey, look at me, I'm great at foldin'
Guess I'll just do this the rest of my life
It's got to do with lots of lovin', and it ain't nothin' nice

[Outro x2:]
This is why she can't have nice things
He was too caught up in work to sign for the nice deliveries that life brings
This is why she can't have nice things
Because talk is cheap and it was poor communication
This is why she can't have nice things
He set fire to the paper boat sonatas he's been writin'
And this is why, I assume the moon's bleeding
And why there wasn't any blood left in the rock he was squeezing

 

[fox69]

"Orphange Freestyle Pt.II"

"Orphange Freestyle Pt.II"


[Slug:]
...With sage francis, to aesop rock,
we're trying to save the spot, we'e trying to save the spot,
we're trying to save the spot, we'e trying to save the spot,
[?]
[Eyedea:]
We're tryin' to save the spot,
hey, yo I break your props,
you see me do a lot of shows,
I get paid a lot...
So when I hit the mike I make the instrumentals distort,
MC's are on my nuts just like a genital wart,
and they won't ever stop, they straight connected,
I break their record, their whole style's just fake-infected,
so why don't they get some realness,
they act like they can't feel this,
they on the ground like an oil spill.
Musta been somebody that tied two sperms together and made 'em
ditch the egg, before I switch the peg,
wait a minute, how did he just get in it
so cynical, this individual will flip it every [intracle?]
and - reaching with my tentacles...
I just grab the microphone from individuals
Lyrically advanced? huh-yeah, that's a maybe
MC's can never play me, I make grown cats look like babies,
when I flow raps, I beak caps of knees
when I smack MC's, they are as whack to me, I attack the beat
but they ain't understandin'
This man is just damagin'
every rapper on the planet where he's standing-
and even if he's sittin'
and even if he's not spittin'
this kid is just rippin' the microphone,
forever grippin' it
Tight! keepin' it tight! Holdin' the mike! Fend for my life!
and then I'm grabbin' it, stabbin' it right into the
middle of your eyesight,
it's so easy for me to bend mikes,
I get in pen-fights,
and then I break pencils,
and take your stencils;
Out of my mind, I'm
Out of the frame, I'm
Under your skin, over your head, and
all in the game...
You know what I'm sayin' and it's just
all in my name,
while your girl is like- yeah, she's good at
callin' my name.
She's like, "Eyedea, how do you spell it?
With a capital E?
When you smackin' MC's,
And they as whacked at practicing beats?"
Freestylin', but they ain't understanding
this man is diminishing cats
like popeye without spinach,
and finishin' raps,
take em' to the end and replenish them cats
who think they're thinkin' when they're stinkin' with their raps?
Hey! One time in my life I had spinal meningitis...
Yo, but after that I realized that on the mike I'm the tightest!
And MC's wanna like this, but they can never invite this,
I recite (tihs) that'll make God wanna just...
recruit me for a team of angels,
see your dreams get strangled
MC's I mangle,
in the middle of their face, this individual's got bass
when I flip riddles on a ritual basis, taste this, hey kid,
Wait a minute, yo I'm about to stop -
Illogic, grab the microphone and let 'em know just how you rock...

 

[fox69]

"Over Under"

"Over Under"


[Intro:]
You get over me
You get over me
You get over me
You, you

[Verse 1:]
Babygirl I done been over myself (out of myself)
Over the counter and under the shelf
Into the wild-wild hidin' wealth
You think really gonna tell me to do nothing else
Hurled insults to me like that shit helps
Got a malleable muscle in my chest
Yes it breaks (it heals) it freezes (it melts)
It sees itself in the worst of light
And it curses the day that I learned to write
The guys are all “Do you even lift bro?”
Shit no I don’t, girls are like “Ew
He drive a Prius, he saving money, he’s hoarding cash
Who does he think he is?
What’s the point of living if you can’t ball and flash?" (Balderdash!)
Even more than half of them broads don’t have a passport
I’m a citizen of the world, girl, I couldn’t take you there if you asked for it
Oh I know, get over myself, all you see is me holding myself
What you don’t see is an OG oak tree protecting the forest like nobody else
I pop that lumberjack venemous beard, had a gold digger won by the end of the year
I let it get so long I could fuck it, after that I’ll let you cut it
Shyeah, I’m over myself so much that I’m just looking down on myself
As I watch everybody try to bad talk pride
And they constantly strive to be proud of themselves
Follow the beat of another conundrum
Get out of the heat, rent a cottage in London
I’m on a retreat and I’m under the assumption
No matter where I go there I am
Middle-earth excursion, head to New Zealand
Shoot for the stars and I’m breaking the ceiling
Center of the Universe, can’t shake the feeling no matter where I go there I am

[Bridge:]
Honey I been over myself, out of my self
Extra extra large, rocking sexy socks with garter belts
You ain’t really gots to tell me nothing (you already said)
You ain’t really gots to say Nathan (god damn broken record)

[Verse 2:]
Oh I know, I know I let myself go
I simply slipped through my own pathetic crib
Can never really get a firm grasp of my true inner glow
But tell me the truth, you’re more pissed that I let go of you cause it was overdue
In person your life don’t look nearly as well put together as all your photos do
But that’s ok but eventually, since you push me, since you press me
Fuck your non-stop, toxic, drama carpetbagging, fuck your selfie
Oh I’m the pig, you’re trying to strangle me in a blanket though
You’re a GMO seed of breed in my organic garden
Wanting my resources to make it grow (oh hell no)
It’s a courtesy call-back, let the pilot fly
I’ll be your emergency contact if you’ll be my ride or die
Could’ve followed the pride and then follow the footsteps
Out of my mind I'm not out of the woods yet
I’m trying to find a location that’s good yet
No matter where I go there I am

[Outro:]
Over the counter and under the shelf
Into the wild-wild hidin wealth
You ain't really got to tell me to do nothing else
Cause I've heard it all before from a sharper tongue with a lot more scorn
Performing self flagellation with improper form until the copper’s gone
(Over myself, out of myself)
(Extra extra large)

 

[fox69]

"Pen To The Gun Fight"

"Pen To The Gun Fight"


[Sage Francis:]
Condoliza Rice I don't need your lies your jittery when under attack
It's funny at least for you to lie through your teeth cause there's a credibility gap
Got big Saddam but we missed Bin Laden and Bush still ain't found no weapons
Headline "WE GOT 'EM" is still a big problem in Iraq there killing Americans
I thought the war was over we're sending more soldiers something just wasn't done right
Tell bush he could of, should of, would of, maybe next time bring a pen to the gun fight
MOTHERFUCKER

[Nirvana Sample:]
Nothing on top but a bucket and a mop and an illustrated book about birds
There's a lot up there but don't be scare, who needs actions when you got words..

[Sage Francis:]
Who needs action when you got words [x3]

 

[fox69]

"Personal Journalist"

"Personal Journalist"


Sage Francis
Personal Journalist
1968-2001

He left with deep breaths in each chest that needs less innovating,
Because they're still debating over what "rhyme skill" is.
Got Sick of Waiting...for time killers to get over their murder raps.
Then he sold his own shirt off his back

For cheap exposure. He'd seek for closure but stayed open minded.
Always seemed to keep composure peeking over both his eyelids.
Speaking vulgar in misleading cultures of ultra-violence.
Teaching others how to be more loving through brotherly guidance.

A bleeding soldier knows the science. He does the math quick and writes
Without having to think twice.
Without asking for advice. Letting the scalps peel.
Having brains picked by head lice before the scabs heal.

His death mask conceals his face paint.
It feels like a safe place, but it ain't.
Feels like it safety seals fates, but it don't.
He's not a real saint. Just another one of those religious, political jokes.

And that's not even half of the nutshell cats are compelled
to crack open to extract his blood cells from.
When he comes back from hell again,
You'll have a few bones to pick with a fractured skeleton.

Sage Francis
Anti-socialite.
Secret Admirer.
Student Loaner.
Continental Drifter.
Professional Bootlegger.
Spin Doctor.
Self Referentialist.
Road Runner.
Personal Journalist.

Word is the worthless wordsmiths were conversing impersonal twists.
Heard they're concerned with making the Earth shift.
These kid games are silly. When all art is signed anonymous,
He'll turn that Big Bang Theory into a Small Pop Hypothesis.

Sage Francis.
Death Merchant.
1968-2001
Devoted son...father to none...

Husband to something soulless and didn't spend his life with who he loved.
The hardest workers in showbiz need no diamond studded glove.
"His time is up!" He's still the type poised to make a come back.
Kill the white noise until the sun's black.
Moonwalk around New York City and get murdered by flocks of sheep,
Who square dance circles inside a box of beats.
The California Dream sequences end quick.
Couldn't find middle ground in little towns on some Midwest trip.
He stood for something...but fell for every trick in the book, so he stopped believing...
In an avant garden of Eden.
"Get off the cross!" Of course we need the wood to burn a Godless heathen.
Catch him red handed...only if his palms are bleeding.

Sage Francis
Non-Prophet.
Artificially Intelligent.
Avant Guardian Angel Dust Mite.
1968-2001
It's been a pleasure. It's been a pleasure

But get out of my weathered face with all that sunshine
Get out my weathered face with all that sunshine
Get out my weathered face with all that sunshine
Get out my weathered face.

 

[fox69]

"Pitchers Of Silence"

"Pitchers Of Silence"


I never held a funeral for that big part of me that died.
I need to put these thoughts to rest. i need to find a peace of mind.
I need to piece my mind, find a piece of mind to rest in.
need to find someone to confide in, and with the rest i need to start restin'.
needless to say, i couldn't hide.
fifteen grown men shouldn't cry.

had i known then what i know now.
had i thought now what i knew then...
i might still be human
with all the little stupid fix-ins.
as i fix sins and vixens vick souls,
stitch clothes for the characters they play then switch roles.
nail me to the cross dress.
the holy cloth costs less.
i'd toss less
if i still had your soft breasts to rest my head on.
since you've been gone,
i recalled my issues with problems and hate
but i can't exactly remember the model or make.
now glass bottles break in my death grip.
i'm about to take the next quick exit and end this head trip.
my bed's stripped of its blankets, comforters, pillows and sheets,
but i might have to peel off all my skin to remove your scent in order to sleep.

i had my highs and lows.
when on top, i let you peek out over my nose.
sitting on my shoulders and i suppose if i had a backbone,
you might still be here.
my skin is filthy...
from my lows when you weren't there. but to keep from feeling guilty,
i collected the dirt (collected the dirt)...kept it piling up.
now mr. feel nothing (mr. feel nothing) saves his tears inside of a cup
and he drinks (and he drinks). and he forgets that he's an asshole.
jealous of his ghosts and doubts he even has a soul.

my secret pleasures have my inner demons gossiping.
i'm a ghost writer for the horrorcore lyrics my personal monsters sing.

i'm sitting in a stranger's tub...
with all my clothes on...shivering...considering the dangers of love.

they get half of what i have to give...if that.
it's all about the packaging. they're distracted by the gift rap.

predictable. easy to manipulate.
they're foreshadow puppets and i'm waiting for their strings to break.

the pillars that once held up my halfway house have been taken out.
i'm in my last days now.
there's a change coming soon.
i just want to crawl back into my mother's womb.
i need a comfort zone,
but obviously i need to find another home
to call my own...and always return to
and i want it to be you (i want it to be you).

i sit and stare, zone out, think a lot and never sleep,
creating memories to remember and then i forget to eat.
went to the street you used to live on, staring at the bedroom window of your old home
with puppy eyes...waiting for god to throw me a bone.

i'd settle for one more goodbye kiss while i settle for less.
i'm unsettled at best. sulking while abandoning settlements.
insulting my companions intelligence...conversing with baby talk.
practicing mind games. rehearsing with playful thought.

it's the way we fought that made my blood bubble then turn cold,
when you made me walk through rain and mud puddles on a dirt road.
it left me so messy,
forget me...not.

i've got more mud to sling...

shot.
"through the heart, and your to blame, you give love a bad name."

 

[fox69]

"Polterzeitgeist"

"Polterzeitgeist"


Why you goin around, trying to keep people outta hell?
I'm goin around, trying to keep the hell outta people.

Your evil sends chills through my bones
And it flows through the back roads of arteries.
Genetic memory fights technology
Administered by moral midgets
Theres picket signs in my eyes when they strike
You'll wanna talk business.
Note to self; go for self, go for broke
No one else ever showed you the ropes or helped
And what are they supposed to do?
Of course they gotta rebuild every wall that you broke on through.
Drugs wont get my thoughts running, I need them to make thoughts stop coming
Last night I had dream I shot someone
When I awoke my hands were full of the fluid my hearts pumping
I went to get it tested, the doctor was not so interested in analyzing the message
He had a pill, that if he issues out
He gets paid on the side, Got a lifetime supply.

[hook]
Maybe hes the ghost, and maybe I'm the host
The polterzietgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes
and
Maybe I'm the ghost, and maybe hes the host
The polterzietgeist who knows the right price
To pay the priest to release me from these ropes

Fell into a Venus fly trap with a nicotine eye-patch
Pirate of the ship sipping Listerine night caps.
disguised her voice with the breath of a clean slate
awake every morning to the death of my dream date.
selling sex to cheapskates with rusty blades
fuck to forget and call it layaway
Got an addiction to thin ice
the whisper of wind pipes
I'm mister insight, the social costume's skin tight
nah, I don't believe in you
and you don't believe that I'm leaving you.
as you shrink away to nothing in my rear view
to close to call, to far to be hearing you
singing my melody I heard it subconsciously
you spoke in your sleep, and it sounded like honesty
When you awoke you said "it was not for me"
I said "oh, I know obviously"
You're not my yo-yo so I cropped the photo
and I rocked this solo now you gots to go

[hook]

Maybe you're a ghost, and I'm the conduit
the kinda thread in every superficial compliment
the loose string in your moral fabric
holding your logic, hopelessly romantic
and (going??) psychic
Leaving notes for the next to come
written in blood from the wound that they'll exit from
I don't compose rows or sonnets I just write like my life depends on it
Front like I'm agnostic, but I don't believe in you
You got a transparent nature that I'm seeing through
somebody spiked the punch that you beat me to
sometimes I'm not even sure its even you.

[hook]

 

[fox69]

"Pressure Cooker"

"Pressure Cooker"


[Intro:]
(Where have you been?)
(Where have you been?)
(Where have you been!?)

[Hook 1:]
I've been busy, get-get-get off my nuts
I've been busy, busy, doing stuff
Copper Gone, I had to take my time
To get my life together, put everything in line
Sage Francis, no need for me to tell 'em
I’m from the Epic Beard Men, I'm steady representing'
Strange Famous
And slow and steady wins the race, fuckface

[Verse 1:]
This is a letter to the editor sent in an envelope
Sealed shut by some candle wax
Shipped by an olden only show pony, with a carry sack
The only thing that I overnight express is myself through song
But it takes too long to reach the intended listener
When it gets delivered wrong
Never knew the words to the school bus sing along so I stayed off
While I organized my chaos I was like "Biotch, bring it on"
Pick ‘em up, your stupid self-esteem is low
Put ‘em down if they’re just feeling incredible about themselves
For no good god damn reason though
Never saw the need to boast
They were standing on the shoulders of a giant, so defiant
But his feet are so, Jesus [?]
Barely even know if it appears as if I hate your guts
It’s just, both sides of my bed are the wrong one, and I’m always waking up
Plus, I don’t care to defend sides of myself that I don’t like much
I am what I am that’s all that I am, bullshit don’t got that right touch
Let the better half I punch, and push, and scratch it’s way out
Get on all fours put a saddle on your back and let the pain mount
I’m off to the races, gentlemen place your bets
Running in circles, turning their heads, eventually you could break their necks
The bookie collects, don’t play the victim when it happens
Lower the stakes before you try to burn the witches at ‘em
It’s the business of a Madam when the brothel has a profit loss
The best of the best survive the cut and the rest get auctioned off
They serve the Molotov, so Mazel Tov
Forefathers of stability in this industry have ridiculously fallen off
Chalk it up to blackboard, fingernail, crescendos
That was my jam when I was ten, but I was deaf though
I didn’t understand that I wasn’t landing a deal at all, it was a death blow
Whistling Dixie through a hell hole then I went pro
Active-Retro even though I paid my dues
Losers hate playing a game that they can’t win so they always change the rules
And I keep up, putting coffee into my tea cup
Try to cut me down when I take a stand? Good luck
‘Cause I got legs like a tree trunk

[Bridge:]
They say anger is a gift, I’m very gifted
And if ignorance is bliss then I’m a Sado-Masochist
Mastered the passion for the sake of stripping it from all its pleasure
Got a treasure chest collapsing under pressure

[Hook 2:]
Get-get-get off my nuts
I've been busy, busy, doing stuff, Copper Gone
I had to take a minute to get my shit together
Otherwise I was finished, Sage Francis
No need for me to tell 'em, I tried to keep from yellin’
But I'm steady representin' Strange Famous
And slow and steady wins the race, fuckace

[Verse 2:]
I been treating a vacant lot as if it’s a destination spot
Picked a hell of a depression to set up my shop
Master of tragic-comic timing
Mellow drama you understood, a sensei to some
Hyperventilating praying for the end of days to come
By selling survival kits, New Testament bibles to Zionists
And training wheels to professional cyclists, it’s like this
Plucking petals from your frame, She-Loves-Me-Not and goes nowhere
I pump my tires while you pump my brakes, I thought it was no fair
Spent several sessions giving away precious possessions
During an endless recession, turned repentance to oppression
Pressure into a permanent first impression
I’m the last of my kind so I side-step your health inspection
There’s a difference between gambling addiction and making love to Lady Luck
Erectile Dysfunction and being afraid to fuck
The pressure’s always building, I simply can’t wait to erupt
Both sides of my bed are the wrong one and I’m always waking up
(Always waking up, always waking up)

[Bridge]