Songs about Izzy

These are raps I wrote about Izzy. They are unedited.

XII: The Roof

Echoes through the stratospheric
(echoes say we approaching near it)
space about the meteoric
(climbing gritting interfering)
rise of this polyphonic
(dingo underneath is fawning)
beat with essence of you on it
(desert full of Brits that conned it)
Washes with your visage,
(see your shoulders covered in sand)
running low on the ménage,
(breathe the dry heat of Sydney land)
yet fresher sight I could sure not envisage.
(big shades on your brights bouncing along with my fly jams)

Taking down cars and taking on troops,
(this beat is more us)
ripping through time jumping through mad hoops.
(bit of calm for explorers)
Wonder how this can last,
(time has stopped its core fuss)
this night gone in a flash,
(and there is no more gusts)
sail you away with Babou’s flag flying at the mast.
(jumping through time like it’s shaped as a torus)

Days and years and down with all these fears,
(Babou is feeling it—Babou is killing it)
forget the jeers and shed none of those tears,
(Babou got his dreams and he resort to stealing it)
our stop is near, upside down we veer,
(Jay is here dealing it—sense that we nearing it)
melt the past into future, leave just a now and here.
(tell me how fly it is that we be just reeling it)

We flying dangerous close to these power lines,
(in and just taking)
and we up here tempting fate in daredevil time,
(we ain’t here waiting)
quicken the clip so we don’t fall behind,
(see what sparkles don’t wait too late and)
following the sun who has been so kind.
(forget it with the waiting)

Near the flat clearing we run out of gas,
splitting the city and we thinking real fast,
I back the plane up for a two pitch dash,
you looking at me like I finally met my match.
We could crash in the ocean, shoulda taken the boat and
shoulda and coulda and woulda been coasting.
Instead we take the plane,
which was cracked and lame,
getting away from Lesotho and those armies insane.

Vector like Hector now running on fumes,
I bring her downward toward rectangular doom,
Top of a warehouse, overreach like Doc Faust,
I land the front wheel and we take a hard bounce.

Boom and snap and crash and a slip,
pull on the brakes with my hand around your hip;
nose of the plane curving in a long dip,
twisting the rubber until it burn and rip.

On to the problem of getting out fast,
tenuous balance will not long last.
This part is easy—we done it before,
I take your hand and I kick out the door,
dash out the hole and scramble outside,
plane fall down just over the divide.
Crash into cars and cause a commotion,
clear our view direct to the ocean.
Stiff breeze blows, sun’s smile shows,
look at you girl like you made of gold.

Hair in the wind, lips slightly part,
hand on your hip while you smile a lil snark.
On top of here, girl, you look so fine,
smirk all attitude and legs all line.
Look at me and for a moment I see it,
you about to tell me that you really need it.
Give me your hand and you wink your eye,
“Where to next? I want a surprise.”

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