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Chorus do you really know who I am? I ask you this I ask you this and do you really know who I am? I ask you this I ask you this do you really know who I am? I ask you this I ask you this and do you really know who I am? I ask you this tell ‘em Glen Bobby my name is Antix What you think about the lies that I have spitted I know there is no music in the musings of the simple minded and you can find me with my fingers on the pulse f**k a pope I speak when I convulse epileptic rap Letras de cancioneslike an attack of the thoughts in my mind when I try to told ‘em back and yeah you judge me censor me then love me but f**k that I'd rather have Kesha on a track ghost vision I move through the system unheard coz you people just don’t listen but you will now ah yes you will the great unwashed now dote on my appeal and no I’m not an arrogant man well yes I am its ok be yourself in time they’ll understand you can the call me Rushdie of rap the Hitchens of smacking you bitches out my kitchens the Dawkins of stalking you awkward little orphans the selfish gene keeps me talking and I’m walking big steps like a sasquatch there’s two types in life the ‘aves and the ‘ave nots I fall like a black stone strewn from the night sky you can’t explain me so kneel at my wayside stand like a stone wall you bob your head to head sprung automaton 'til you bled through life trickles down my eyes coz I bleed sense run the bulls kill the picador I see red so here I am the voice of youth the unspoken I sing this one for you so wake and bake in Alighierian inferno the molten state of your pace coz you burn slow and me the man on the pulpit illuminator get your mother**king eyes open time ticks to the rhythm of the rich the poor wait around and just watch the s**t click time slows to the rhythm that I bend the world waits around to watch Antix represent it is with no regret that I look upon my life old enough to know that I’m young enough to die and old enough to know that my music will provoke an army of the ignorant one can only hope I’m sick and tired of the ignorant admired the foolish on the pedestal rented out for hire so dah dah dah dah dah dah f**k Sarah Palin and Glen Beck and Bill O'Reilly custom-made flows I compose for the circumstance rap circles around you you call it the circum-dance my whole world come together in formations synchronized symphonic arrangements I’m making fluidic flowings I Figaro these poems they f**king fly out of my face like a Boeing so kick a-lick a-lick a lot of clever s**t ballistics that I spit come intrinsic like my wit I love this music I was put here to protect it Antix cleaning out the s**t like I’m septic From Letras Mania