She was talking about how people don’t make albums anymore.

Jack Frost.

Juxx.

I keep dreaming, more than human

R. U. S. T. E.

I keep dreaming, more than human

Coltrane blowing on the sax
Facts. I blow brains flowing on the tracks.
Axe. Held by that lumberjack chopping.
Mopping, uno uno number mack popping.
Lacing, eyes of Medusa what you facing.
Jason, machete with that hockey mask, chasing.
If you heard that sound it was too late.
Two fake muthafuckas, drown them in a new lake.
Horror flick, you won’t be around when tomorrow hit.
Said he needed headshots, homie you can borrow six.
Hollow tips, hopping out the burner like an uber lift.
Bullets got wings on them, homing at you super swift.
Sonic boom, smoking out ya dome like a chronic room.
Blazing your brain cells, give that gin and tonic room.
It’s the cap piller, Juxx, and I rap realer.
Selling bullets to the masses like a crack dealer.

I’m a true samurai with a sword on my waste.
I’m a killer steady waiting in the bushes with a blade.
The plane just hit shenzen. The club is going craze.
I’m about to set this bitch up in flames
What’s my name? It’s kinda chilly but I really can’t complain.
I’m living every single day just like my life is gonna end.
And either I’m out whipping or I’m losing my brain,
Jack Frost Records is a runaway train.
You’re pouring gasoline all on that fake that snow machine of yours.
Leave this fucking beat alone, I’m cocking that repeater.
I’m whipping up the 10 with kush on my breathe.
I think I’ll park it right behind the hedge at your rest.
I am hydrapaulic paintball gunning custom fitted
Snow-plow is on the grill and baby everything is glowin.
There’s drugs on the floor and there’s some carpet on the ceiling
And inside you can’t see shit, capture the feeling.

I keep dreaming, more than human
I keep dreaming, more than human

You know the gist, get ‘em nodding like an opiate.
Load the clip, the beat slaps like an open fist.
Cold abyss, my soul’s eclipsed by the loneliness.
Alone in the midst of my associates.
Low-pro, play the back, gray and black Raider hat.
Made to last like wax and 8-tracks, before the wav’s and dat’s.
You beta max, data fax, folding smiles like paperbacks
Fake your past, the truth rise like blades of grass in pavement cracks.
I always knew I had it, hypochondriac.
We’ve just been running through the cycles like a laundry mat.
It’s quite beyond me that, they saw me, never thought he’d snap.
I guess my dark humor is hard to read like my autograph.
See me as a man, I’m just being what I am, damn, let’s keep it a grand, it’s a hard life.
Leave it in my hands, cuz even in a jam, got a reason and a plan, seeming God-like.

I keep dreaming, more than human
I keep dreaming, more than human