Текст песни: Emcee Rhetoric + перевод

How’s a brain storm become a brain hurricane?

Smash glass and use the window sill-ables to hold the shattered panes

Leave broken English scattered on the grass and after

Paint a masterpiece in grim amounts of pounding rain

How can someone leave a crowd and stay a groupie?

How can you be shooting rounds if it’s a line of duty?

Why is uni always cheaper than to fix my hooptie?

And sue me, but why’s a girl hit the floor if you slip her a roofie?

How you row when a friendship’s run aground?

And how’s an «O» give your pen tip the run around?

How you grow in a summer drought, snow when the sun is out

Yo, how’d the roots come up from underground?

How you know you want the sex without an ultrasound?

And how’s my girl orbit the sun and never come around?

And important, how’s it coming up to someone with a ton to prove but none to

lose

But fame will make you wish that you were unrenowned?

(Why, why, why?)

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

It’s

(Why, why, why?)

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

It’s

I wanna know, what’s the sound of one hand clapping?

And if a man spits a verse in the woods and no one happened

To be around to catch it, does it count as rapping

Or does he have to spit it in a club in upper Manhattan?

How come numbers in Latin are letters?

Can the sun be under the weather?

Cause I don’t know what’s beaming forever

I read a poem at an open mic and then regretted it

Went to bed with a woman, but I slept with a sedative

How’s a curse word in rap so bad but it’s no worse if

I sprinkled glitter on it and I penned the word in cursive

Why I always gotta pay for shit in the free market?

How you drop an arm and a leg and walk away with a bargain?

(I'd be limping)

And speaking of wounds, who’s the target

When the surgeon general’s a private and CEO of

If God wrote the Bible, why’d he write some folks in the margins?

An artist has a right to ask, about as much as starvin'

(Why, why, why?)

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

It’s

(Why, why, why?)

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

This emcee rhetoric is empty rhetoric

It’s empty

What’s the square root of negative one?

If money is the root of all evil

Then why do we demonize the people with none?

If the sum of our parts is stronger than each piece

Why do we treat peace like a pipe dream?

How do you fight midnight without a light beam?

I might scream yet if might makes right

Then what’s a little brother gotta do to get some respect?

Who’s in the middle of sketching the simplest edges

Of pictures all begging for better perspective I bet

Fuck it, I won’t bet

I’m asking the questions and getting fed up with the stuff

Then again, best question

When’s the last time our President

Read a book that didn’t have matches in it?

Excuse me, how the fuck are steroids and celebrity pillow chat

Getting more attention in my newspaper

Than an escalating genocide

And a broken ceasefire in the Middle East?

Tell me, am I the only one who feels like

He’s going fucking crazy in here?

And one more:

What’s the difference between a rhetorical question,

And one that we’re too scared to solve?

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