Cozmo Beregofsky

Masters of Consciousness

Emcees charging entry fees as if they were worth it. Cypher oxygen thieves on the circuit. Accept the fact that practice makes perfect. Inherit the crown only when you deserve it. Understand that this isn’t a circus. You’re sitting on your arse sort of like it was a holiday. I put my heart in it and keep rocking, and make music with a sense of purpose.

 

Emcees charging entry fees seems obscene when they speak on a mic, but don’t know the meaning of emcee. Face it - this is not a vacation. More hip hop than painting a train station is gonna be needed. Your song’s incomplete like jazz without triplets. It sounds ridiculous. I listened and some people said that ignorance is bliss. Back when I was ignorant it was like the taste of piss. Now there’s plenty of them emcees, dense, tryin'a be trendy when rhyming immensely pathetic and empty, unoriginal speeches,  covering the weakness. These rappers are leeches. It’s better if they speak less. Trying their best to be more, still remain less. Why feel the need to imitate the famous? See that it’s just a pain in the anus. Respect when you speak from the heart to fill the pages.

 

I’m diggin’ it more than earthworms. What the words earn doesn’t disturb the words heard in the future. It’s non-stop quality, permanently super. I’m not gonna bother - whatever monopoly suits ya company. I’m not a prop and I’m a proper hoppin’ hippin’ rocker. Independent. What I’ve got is just a lot of honesty. Philosophy - what I wanna speak - an honour. Sock ‘em often if an offer from a robber of a million dollar promise is upon us. It’s as honest as a consciousness. On and on and on it when I'm rocking this, sitting in my rocket ship. Knowledge is optimistically completely monstrous. Overall it’s ultimately prosperous enough for me to be a psychologist. But if I ever need one I’m a friggin' rhinoceros.

 

Cozmo Beregofsky