[Sample]

You've got the look

You've got the look

You've got the look

I want to know better

You've got the look

That's all together

[Verse 1]

This agnostic front [?] nudity won't stand long

[?] when the camera's on, I'm nude on stage

Left [?] ideals [?] on my fuel gauge

From what you see is crudely made

Like you've never made it past high school grade

You're a victim of my shrewd charade

Minimalism, the tools of the trade

Rhymin' it to 'em, put a silver disc on a jewel case

For a studio audience on a lunar base who don't care how their food taste

They cheer, but we rip packed shows all embarrassing tip hats slow

To pimp fat flows like tic-tac-toe or mis-matched clothes (What are you wearing?!)

The best dressed [?] sweat drenched [?]

I'm less urban than [?], wiping my ass with a royalty statement

You sing along like a Christmas carol [?] fish in a barrel

We should be dipped in apparel that's suitable for an Egyptian Pharoah

Not this tacky gear

[Chorus]

I dress like I'm not from planet Earth

Not in your trendy gear, open banana skirts

So the fashion director tells me:

"If it's too underground, please dumb it down"

I dress like I'm not from planet Earth

Not in your trendy gear, open banana skirts

So the fashion director tells me:

"If it's too underground, please dumb it down"

[Verse 2]

Those fools can't style, they're not the Blowed members

We make our trainees squawk over hot [?] embers

I'm known to [?] overseas interviews

And represent Cali like a top-go vendor

I can hear [?] when your boys murmur

Your stupid [?] loiterers

You like [?]

[?] per word

Let me eat in my soy burger

I don't want to sign your flyer with a sharpie marker

Yes, I'm Driver, the party starter, but you dissed the Blowed

Just 'cause [?] disrobe and I don't fit in your fish bowl

I'm a naked freshwater aquatic mammal giving your girl an airhole kiss

When she gives my pheromones a whiff

And crews everywhere got a bone to pick

But our studio software don't glitch and when I perform I'm gon' strip

Blowedians [?]

Don't bring out hip-hop cop in me, but I'm on my thrift-shop shoppin' spree

And you're dressed in name brand gear, a souvenir [?]

You should just stand clear

I fly into your town with no landing gear

These colors bleed out of the picture frame

So all of the young critics want to pick your brain

Labels can't house my explicit word games

[?] fallen tears for the Project Blowed promotional stream-team blitz

[Bridge: Abstract Rude]

They were dressed in [?] their finest clothes

Merely an illusion of conformity clouded in a little bubble of self-delusion and denial

Cladded in the threads of fortune [?] glad to feel important

Even though offering nothing worthwhile

All others seem infantile

Project Blowed is a thrift-store of styles

[Chorus]

I dress like I'm not from planet Earth

Not in your trendy gear, open banana skirts

So the fashion director tells me:

"If it's too underground, please dumb it down"

I dress like I'm not from planet Earth

Not in your trendy gear, open banana skirts

So the fashion director tells me:

"If it's too underground, please dumb it down"

[Outro]

Ten years ago, while I was a future shock [?]

Runnin' after the radio

Tens years from now I'll be some type of crazed

It'll be my millionth time killing it

Completely dumbfounded underground shit

I found it very boring

So I transcended with both hands inside [?]

Brought you artifacts from a [?]

Hellbent on trying to represent irrelevant factoids

Black boys come to compile a series of styles and different approaches

That'll leave you lost in a midst of vacuum of musical context

That's devoid of type of prudence

Nude students come to try to understand how I can bear it all

Stare at the ball of Earth and turn it into just a small tennis ball that hit it with my racquet

This is no racquet, it's my rap shtick

More than just a phantasm

Busdriver has rhythms encapsulated inside of every word which is a vacuole

A small scene, a microcosm, you might go and try to fathom

But you can't really get to the bottom of...

My unbelievable rap [?] creative aqueduct

I rap like I give a fuck

Give up 'cause you need to put your hands in the air

And just don't stand there

Project Blowed is a beautiful open mic