Will this be the year that I go flat broke? I hope you know that you’re my last hope. I’ve been trying to make a living by getting livid at rap shows, eating nothing but rations, spitting nothing but shrapnel, lying on my back listening to Fear of a Black Planet, and nodding along like I understand it. So, I vanished. I got so close, then got ghost, and watched my body wash up on the coves of both coasts. Chose to get thin – still there’s no room to stand up in. Naïve means being able to dream without an Ambien. A party means setting up shop outside an ambulance, and waiting for that goddamn handle to kick in. Off brand, ‘cause we can’t afford Bombay, just bottles of Andre, boomboxes and old rock tapes, or maybe some Tom Waits. Blood money prom dates. Poverty, hombre - if it ain’t honest, I’ll wait. Empty wallets? I’ll say! It’s a beautiful sight. Light a fifty if you don’t know what to do with your life. Close your bank account out. Cop a groove to the mic. Get poor. Get raw. Get frantic. Get nice.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Spend your last dollar to this sound. Open your mouth wide and get loud. Get poor. Get down.
Believe it, holmes, this the year for leaving homes. Leaving grief alone to weep and piece by piece retrieving back your souls. We’re in a sad, sad state when the state don’t give a fuck about the minimum wage. We’re in a mad, mad world when we can keep up with Kardashians, but not the cartels. I ain’t got the answers, but you can be damn sure, I may be broke but I ain’t broken and I’m ‘bout to get poor.
In for a penny, in for a pound. Spend your last dollar to this sound. Open your mouth wide and get loud. Get poor. Get down. In for a penny. In for a pound. Spend your last dollar to this sound. Get poor. Get down.
No kidding, I stepped off the grid for one minute, now I got no option but to get poor. And I ain’t worth a damn, but a wall full of framed plans. Amen, eh, man? Get poor. No disrespect to those frozen, and lonely, and coping with seeing their kids have to get poor. This is not what this is. This is making a fist, not giving up, not giving a fuck ‘bout getting rich or getting blisters, getting all your chips and getting all in, not getting swallow up, screaming, calling out
Magnum Opus is a rap duo like no other! Celebrated, decorated, and emulated, but never replicated, the group consists of
two chums...just like you! Arison Cain and Spesh to Death are clever lads, emcees of the illest breed who aren't afraid to get their fingers dirty delivering crate after crate of soul-scattering flows over bone-shattering beats, and still be home in time for dinner!...more
