Seconds by Proper Channels Lyrics
[Verse 1: Plot Device]
It’s all a mummery, money-hungry mumbling mummies
Bumbling dummies, and other phrases unbecoming
Rumbling tummies been hunting, wanting a little something
Wondering if there’s even any substance? (Or only fronting)
Yeah a spokesman told me something, hopes he sold me something
(Everybody tryna eat) But no, this ain’t a luncheon
Yeah I’m munching, only on Lil’ Bits
I’ll run up in your party singing songs like I’m Tiny Rick
(Till it’s time to dip) Rhyming sick
(While they miming shit) Rapping over voice tracks
(Thinking they kind of slick) Just trying to fit
(Might be it's time to quit) Our music is so potent, you could hit a line of it
No denying it, we providing it
Beats inspired by The Man With The Iron Fists
Metal Fingers too, Dilla, Nujabes, Stoupe
More names than pics to flip in Guess Who?
You could wave your flag, stake a claim
At the end of every single day we’re all the same
Staring at the ceiling wondering if things will change
Dunno the answer, but the thunder brings the rain
Or at least telegraphs its presence
Catch me chiseling epitaphs with lessons
Catch me chilling with hella raps in sessions
Hungry as fuck, coming back for seconds
[Interlude]
Man I'm hungry as fuck
Me too man
Pass me-pass me some of that
[Verse 2: KS Joel]
Coming at you from behind the scenes
Been working like nobody’s business (Sorry not hiring)
Major talent coming out the minor leagues
I see y’all, playing tee-ball, trying to swing
But couldn’t hit the piñata with two eyes to see
How many strike-outs till y’all turn the lights out and become retirees?
Be polite (find some privacy)
And keep your pipe-dreams between you and your diaries
My entire team focused on the finer things
And I don’t mean fancy mansions or diamond rings
I’m talking making something that’s inspiring
Trying to free myself from any mental prison that’s confining me
But don’t expect me to rock your mic for free
I’m surviving, but I barely find the time to breathe
Compensation for my labor (always nice to see)
But this isn’t just a side hustle, it’s a way of life for me
Can’t afford to meet more than twice a week
So I’m wide awake at night writing rhymes while my wife’s asleep
KS Joel, nice to meet you
Walk a mile with me and I’ll show you what the fuck grinding means
It’s all a mummery, money-hungry mumbling mummies
Bumbling dummies, and other phrases unbecoming
Rumbling tummies been hunting, wanting a little something
Wondering if there’s even any substance? (Or only fronting)
Yeah a spokesman told me something, hopes he sold me something
(Everybody tryna eat) But no, this ain’t a luncheon
Yeah I’m munching, only on Lil’ Bits
I’ll run up in your party singing songs like I’m Tiny Rick
(Till it’s time to dip) Rhyming sick
(While they miming shit) Rapping over voice tracks
(Thinking they kind of slick) Just trying to fit
(Might be it's time to quit) Our music is so potent, you could hit a line of it
No denying it, we providing it
Beats inspired by The Man With The Iron Fists
Metal Fingers too, Dilla, Nujabes, Stoupe
More names than pics to flip in Guess Who?
You could wave your flag, stake a claim
At the end of every single day we’re all the same
Staring at the ceiling wondering if things will change
Dunno the answer, but the thunder brings the rain
Or at least telegraphs its presence
Catch me chiseling epitaphs with lessons
Catch me chilling with hella raps in sessions
Hungry as fuck, coming back for seconds
[Interlude]
Man I'm hungry as fuck
Me too man
Pass me-pass me some of that
[Verse 2: KS Joel]
Coming at you from behind the scenes
Been working like nobody’s business (Sorry not hiring)
Major talent coming out the minor leagues
I see y’all, playing tee-ball, trying to swing
But couldn’t hit the piñata with two eyes to see
How many strike-outs till y’all turn the lights out and become retirees?
Be polite (find some privacy)
And keep your pipe-dreams between you and your diaries
My entire team focused on the finer things
And I don’t mean fancy mansions or diamond rings
I’m talking making something that’s inspiring
Trying to free myself from any mental prison that’s confining me
But don’t expect me to rock your mic for free
I’m surviving, but I barely find the time to breathe
Compensation for my labor (always nice to see)
But this isn’t just a side hustle, it’s a way of life for me
Can’t afford to meet more than twice a week
So I’m wide awake at night writing rhymes while my wife’s asleep
KS Joel, nice to meet you
Walk a mile with me and I’ll show you what the fuck grinding means