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k-os
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Mr. Telephone Man
“And that's why we sent him to your planet”
“We're sorry, your call cannot be completed as dialed”
I keep it rocking now, knocking on Heaven's door
Looking for answers from a Femme Fatale hardcore
What am I looking for?
I just don't know
I orchestrate couture flows, but not for dough
And really though
I dial triple seven area code
From the side of the road
About way past suppertime
Bust a rhyme on her
To alleviate the drama
But the more that I explore her
It's double I feel ignore her
Ant on the hill, a worker bee to the queen
Of vocabulary arts burning hearts of human beings
True human becoming I'm running
But cunning the number one stunner
Persona is chaseable
Making one replaceable
And damn, every time I think I want to face her
With some tickets to the ball standing in the elevator
On my way to her palace I get up to the seventh floor
But then jet to the fire exit door with faith no more
Mr. Telephone Man won't you help me with my line
When I call the triple seven I get machine every time
And I wonder if it's possible you're playing with my mind
And I really want to know you won't you please give me a sign
And whoa it's a long way down
Said whoa it's a long way down from the fall from grace
We went from pagers, beepers, phones, to creepers
Ringtones, text messages, not reaching
Speaking close all up in my receiver
Afraid to meet in person the dial-tone-deceiver
Pick up, hang up, break up, banger
Man I wanna press every button that land her
Area code South Beach number I forgot it
We cross bionic style exotic forget about it
Now here's what I'm thinking
Is this ship sinking?
While we're dancing and drinking
Could we be at the brink and
Mr. Telephone Man, I call you every night
You never answer my call I'm starting to get uptight
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I guess I'll keep rhyming, designing and flipping the script
And dancing on my own time
In my own mind but, wait
It seems this Mr. Telephone Man
Is a woman with a man in the palm of her hand, damn
Mr. Telephone Man won't you help me with my line
When I call the triple seven I get machine every time
And I wonder if it's possible you're playing with my mind
See I really need to know you, won't you please give me a sign?
And whoa it's a long way down
Said whoa it's a long way down from the fall from grace
(You know I'm outta space,
yo, you know we're outta space, outta time,
Back of my mind, freestyle my rhyme everytime since I was age of nineteen to twenty-five, I survive,
It's all because, paid job grabbin the mic from dawn 'til dusk then return
To Planet Earth, reconcile my peace
I grab the microphone, never seize deceased old rhymes in the cemetery
The vocabulary, grab the microphone)
I said I really want to have a talk
Get your hands off my mic don't grab it off
I said I really want to have a talk
Get your hands off my mic don't grab it off
I said I really want to have a talk
Get your hands off my mic don't grab it off
I said I really want to have a talk
Get your hands off my mic don't grab it off
There's something in the way you make me feel
All them men are crazy, you know yo
La da da, and we come again
La da da, and we never fake the phone, nope
Da da da, Gotham City in the house
Some people say I drink too much,
But I don't give a…
Oh what, they all sitting ducks in the world we live in
Fashion TV, goin' to the mall, it's way too easy
Paint-by-numbers, them in slumber
No sense of magic, no sense of wonder
But I'm just a man who'd spend one hundred grand on a bottle of wine
I'm just a man who knows the plan to get rid of time
I'm just who'd spend one hundred grand on a bottle of wine
Said, I'm just a man who knows the other plan to get rid of time
Goes mind over matter, matter is thought
If you subtract North from zero, you'll get life x4
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