Underachiever lyrics

Artist  : Qwel 
Song : Underachiever
 








  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  








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[Verse 1]

The space it takes to time travel ain't worth the
effort

Mic saddle mastadons to find Babylon the
network

As clear as it seems hi-fi makes it perfect

This pyramid scheme with the eye at the
vertex

Serpents smell with your tongues and wait for
blackouts

Yo, for sure sex sells check wealth at the crack
house

Appachis don't stop, but the candle burns

at both ends while most men just channel surf

It's gonna take more then folded hands to part
the skies

So lets drown from the ground up

Imperfection starts with I

am god and god's not hard rock or worthy
slaves

Surfer make the paper sleep late, pray for early
graves

I hope we catch ebola, just what man deserves

Built god with satellites, but couldn't handle
earth

It'll flood 'till the blood spills, but you still
wouldn't believe it

No control, alt, delete it

I'm on my way to be it

The time it takes to space travel ain't worth the
distance

If I could reach the remote from here then I
convert the mission

Worse then vision splitting headaches

What man's set on looking?

These books are too heavy, plus the antenna's
crooked

The batteries are drained, I think I'll wait it
out

But way the pounds of apathy, I think I hate this
couch

We can slouch into a fetus, all we need is
television

With long spoons to feed us sex and exorcism

Internet access to find our souls

E-mail me dogs, cynical smiles and barcodes

Homes are only shelters, only shelves of a
man

Remote is where the heart is, the heart is
gettin' bent

Yo, we can start right now, here in Chi-town

I'll die if you have to, you know I'm down

With an automatic bag of chips, the honeybun's
out

What channels the revolution on? the
motherfucking couch



[Verse 2]

Cameras for the crips, like gifts for the
thieves

When he's only fifteen and got a tip from his
seeds

So whats kid gonna read, when clips is
magazines?

When god drowns we;re surrounded by fags and
fiends

Rapping teen actors on the magic screen

Lies for halftime, why's he laughin' at me?

Let the smoke flow out through his platic
speech

Patching dream jobs for slaves, saving half the
fee

Hack the feet off, at the khaki cuff

Need batteries for windows, 'cause reality
sucks

Half to give up something right?

The library's sold, meet us on the ones and twos
in binary code

Hypnotize my mind, is it time to explode?

Is my spine a remote, or am I in control?

As I portray this wisdom image actor see

But why's this plastic thing, pointed back at
me

Pointed back at me (pointed back at me)