Daniel Monroe – How Come Lyrics

How Come – Daniel Monroe Lyrics

I think it's the type of thing where, you know, you have a lot of new MCs that are scared to take a verbal ass whippin'. So rather than actually battle someone on the microphone, they rather take it to the guns and have the crew stomp the dude out for saying something about them and make it into some sort of physical altercation that really don't have to be

Yo

The way I write my shit is like forced perspective artwork on acid

Excess layers of lysergic tiny print compiled of parged words to mask it

5 of MeO-wn fingers cast DM-Trance shamanic immersive damascus

Turning thick bitumen ink into mazuku vapor from cursive calefactions

I wonder how come we can't go back and live without tech?

When a mouse runs, he'll keep scurrying with no ounce of rest

I'm not proud, son, haughty halcyon moments to be prideful men

Does it sound fun? Enough to get your neurotic calcium to digest

The data centers were draining reserves while putting the stress and pressure into friends and neighbors to get their children, pets and herds fed

Wrenching nature and no basis for the menclature, it's never been safer

Beta testers taking Deca tenners and influencers with bedding records claim to be Seka descenders

I travel faster than bidirectional dijkstra, my target won't be hard to miss

Even as far and deep as Project Habbakuk while living in the Arctic

Before I leave, I'ma make the mic nice and clean for MicSteam

So try and beat the rhyme elites that are made of pykrete

But how come?

How come?

How come you want to?

You are just asking for it, man

How come?

There's a lack of self respect and control

How come?

Too much paper thin egos

But hey, go ahead and show 'em what's up, Steam

These rappers pathetic, they rap about aesthetics

I don't know how they gon' manage to take this lyrical damage

Every time I'm on the mic, it make them panic

I'm all about that action, lyrical assassins

And I don't know how come they be rappin' dumb?

We need to get back to that golden era

'Cause these rappers nowadays is so damn terrible, it's embarrassin'

Someone get me a shovel so I can, huh, bury 'em

(Ay, Dan

Meet at the spot, man, bring the shovel

Gotta bury them dudes)

On the mic, I'm a different type of monster that haunts ya

Try to conscious with the content 'cause what I heard was nonsense

Makes me wanna pull this pistol from under my garments and run up in your studio apartments

So you better be taking the right precautions

'Cause on the microphone, I will strangle you motherfuckers like I'm from Boston

Or I rob ya like I'm from Anne Arbora, slit ya neck and then I off ya

Should know on the mic, I am proper, now I'm taking off like a helicopter

(But I don't know, tell 'em, Dan)

How come?

How come I gotta be on the lookout when I go outside?

How come?

Life could put your lights out in an instant, yo

How come?

How come the radios can't play meaningful lyricism anymore?

How come?

It's gonna get worse before it gets better

Trust me, real hip hop forever

More open minds and bigger music tastes

Daniel Monroe, MicSteam, you know what I mean?

'26 for the big spitters, we out