Bad News Brown (Gamin Journal) - Open Mike Eagle, Matt Gamin

It’s secret

Bad news brown

Took me down

Why can’t you ever be-

PSDs, I wrote fickle bills

Keep my psychosis dill pickle

In public

Disturbing, self-commited to curse

Verses nurse my nerves

I’m not civil, speaking in the third

Imaginary people, I’m unstable

'Cause I can’t fuck with feeble

Simple shit, make my personality split into triplicate

Fuck rehab, I keep niggas on the nuts with kneepads

Normally, MC for me, with the oratory tracks

Can put more Zs in your blood stream

Than benzos and thorazine

Whether you claim to be saying don’t really mean shit

You can stop praying and start brown nostrel groveling

For doctors to throttle that ass

With klonopin.

Catch and release

Goldie swan divas

Back in the streets like Whitney

Dehydrated and dizzy, with no spit

Just sad beats and bad weaves

Awkward threw me something certifiable

Hot off the dub thrust

Thought I was King Jorje

Addressing my loyal subjects like hotep

In the institute

I don’t want to share it with the group

With rappers tinted like Billy Vivid

Till they growl silly livid

Emergency, escort him to infirmary

He can’t deal with the treatment

Got a lot of demons that keep his chemicals uneven

It’s better to leave him in a REM state

They stab him anyway

Hollering about meritocracy

Over errant talk show boats and mockeries

I’d rather stay boxed in the loonie bin

Under lock and key

You can call me crazy aura

Cali caliphate, like my name was Ron Monodes

Let me just

No good clown

Turn me down

Nobody’s left singing