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by Algorhythms

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some people starve to death over numbers in computers some people eat to death, cuz they're nothing but consumers some people read the news, but they never make connections some people lose their minds trying to separate the messages chillax, fall back on your genetic design let it unwind, learn to feel it's breath on your spine cuz if it happens, it happened, and I am not concerned watched it burn, f-f-f-finally at a loss for words rappers know the status quo is wack and so here's a rallying cry for talented guys to challenge their minds magnum opus off the opening riff wrote it so quick it folded a mobius strip this is basic stuff, language that I tangled up thanks to crazy drugs, I came to love the taste of blood when I say that humans are food, it's not selfish at all you adapt or die, I'm just here to help you evolve and maybe give the hand of god a small push in random spots reshaping the tree of life, breaking dead branches off systems, divisions, conditions, restrictions get 'em addicted, and people start spreading the sickness infected the electrical feed that God connected to me from secret weapons in Greece to Pepsi vending machines held my mind perfectly still with hash vapors empty lines and verses I built on graph paper
been awhile since I sat down and wrote to a beat nowadays I'm an out of place opium freak still bark at the moon and bite marketing dudes you will not see my album in Target this June walked the line until I lost my mind I haven't got the time to really be an honest guy ..and that's a tricky methodology, follow me? I change names randomly to maintain sanity the medium is music, the mind is the weapon beat is the pulse that's providing the message I leave behind in every single mind that I mess with the virus connected, like a sinus infection... target practice, slapstick, charlie chaplin full starving artist package, party crashing Harvard frat kids, thanks for the drugs aim for the rug, and leave that shit stained for a month the vodka tonic got me sweating a bit cuz you can never predict shit when thirtyseven is ripped a dangerous brain, so no playing it safe containing my rage, or watching what I say when I'm blazed monkey religion is a substance addiction and I got twelve steps for recovering christians listen - this is not a popularity contest for bitter little rich kids and arrogant potheads what's this? a message to humans with guts what's that? live crazy and do as you must how come? most monkeys are stupid as fuck why's that? bad food, music and drugs> composing with silence, provoking a riot showing open horizons to broken appliances not distracted with surface reactions I learned how to practice a system to see listen and breathe to find the rhythm beneath whatever physical meat that I live in this week breath is a weapon, perfected my method with sentences stretching in every direction armed to the teeth, spit sharpened and clean my tools are invisible and hard to believe trust me, I function on nothing but weed, beats drums and machines with malfunctioning screens ...oh seven and the spark has died so don't march in line with target signs times have changed, we gotta redesign the game to find a way to survive until the final days so what's this?
(free) 03:23
It's the bridge burning specialist, call for free estimates from bitchy secretaries who refuse to take messages complicate relationships and make enemies instantly when it comes to fucking up, I'm one of the best in the industry true enough, I show up at your house, do some drugs then crank that music up until I pass out puking blood you want a taste of this, sit down and make a list of all that dangerous and crazy shit you were too afraid to risk robbing banks in Vegas, hooking up with famous chicks nowadays I take a piss in public and get paid for it don't need to see the cops to know that I'm being watched I walk crooked, so the snipers can't get a decent shot got a natural talent for balancing polar opposites flow provocative poems and roll in stolen rocketships I could float along but my whole approach was wrong so I wrote this song to figure out what the fuck to focus on a seven day cleansing break just to meditate on how to end the hate I'm seeing every day no solution in sight, and so I'm using this mic to speak my soul and keep this whole community tight but I'm a tricky dude, moving to a different groove this is just a sample of the channels that I'm flipping through rocking business suits, still eating cold kitten food stoned, giving you shit up in your own living room (everyone hates me) and there's a reason for that when you're speaking the facts weak people get mad (everyone hates me) we know a lot of you cats are talking some trash, we watch it and laugh
I'm just a decent lyricist, who had a peak experience now I think in circles, and speak in pyramids two thousand six, same shit, different century killing me how people still believe the myth of entropy write my own equations, spiral spoken language rapping session backwoods legend, broke and famous drop a random flow that burns a perfect Mandelbrot crop sign, then I drop rhymes for the fans at home lately I've been tripping off the math that I see patterns in trees, everything is fractals to me I live with the proof you go broke spitting the truth I'm finished with dudes debating who's sicker than who that punchline shit is honestly pathetic I drop it without pausing for the audience to get it thank God for quality pot, dudes who deliver the goods watching the crop cuz they live in the woods the naked ape with the wake and bake ritual pack an eighth a day, spit razor blade syllables it's not true till it hurts, so I refused to rehearse got blazed onstage, started doing my verse, it went... second nature --- three shots, and then a chaser waited twenty minutes, then I grabbed the pen and paper rock a rictus grin with a twist of gin to loosen up the lizard skin that I exist within usually buzzed, and when I'm doing some drugs I'm stupid enough to wake up in a cruiser with cuffs around the bend, lost contact with a thousand friends practiced mountain Zen, but that shit's about to end... we bring the funk, spitting up something hicks can bump on the backroads, getting mad stoned and liqoured up until your liver busts, switch it up to different drugs it's the soundtrack to crashing your dad's pickup truck If I start at the beginning and I end it when it's finished can I explain the Universe in less than seven minutes? dig it...I was born obsessed with dinosaurs and outer space and that's the reason that I'm speaking how I sound today before I see inside the back of my head there's a lotta fact and events that probably have to be said but fuck it: the track's in motion, crack it open lay my brain on the table and try to map the ocean my frontal lobes roll every drunken show where I'd bust a flow, puke outside, stumble home memory gaps, too much missing, never relaxed not knowing if I settled all my debts with the past jaw tension, freestyle tapes, lost sessions fallen angels, caught messing with God's weapons (whoops) life is different now, I used to be a kid with doubts denied the visions and blocked the signals out lost connection in all directions and forgot each breath has been a pretty awesome blessing it's all perception, a million mixed messages keep your mind moving and your fingertips sensitive If I start at the beginning and I end it when it's finished can I explain the Universe in less than seven minutes? dig it...I was born obsessed with dinosaurs and outer space and that's the reason that I'm speaking how I sound today grew up sleeping late, reading strange comic books so every time I let my mind go, my mom was shook and now today, I found a way to twist the digits back if you don't see it, so be it, I can live with that...
fuck yes I used to be a cynical dude had myself a shitty attitude which didn't improve until I found about an ounce of some ridiculous shrooms and cracked my head open to some primitive truth on spherical floor with an infinite roof spinning in space, I look out and grin at the moon lately, I live my life simple and smooth grateful for the galaxy that gives me this food stay tuned to little hidden physical cues and listen to the bullshit your children consume too addicted to stupid, derivative loops to really understand intangible original moves don't hate what I make cuz it tastes different to you this is me, and my soul, flipping the groove with rapid rhymes cuz that's what I'm conditioned to do spitting images too intricate to fit in this booth used to have dreams about starting the movement a revolt of the poets, the artist and students but the kids act up, and that's part of the blueprint just like public schools and the cars and the music I learned this Leary and Marshall McLuhan if you see me as an easy target, you're stupid I lost you in Dallas, departed from Houston stay awake and alive, cuz martyrs are useless it's been a long time...and I'm glad that I left you I been practicing chess moves and snacking on fresh fruit spit spirals of visual art then rip it apart before it hits the critics and sharks who want me framed, wombats cannot be tamed copied, changed or wrapped up and bought today just walk away...I'll never change what I created for the sake of entertainment, y'all can pay me when I'm famous I follow this path because it's all that I have and it's an obvious fact you got a problem with that and so be it...yeah, you people get some lawyers I got some Aretha divas and Shiva the destroyer half mathematician, half black magician surpass the limit of this holographic image used lab technicians keeping track of facts and fiction used to lack conviction, now I make an active difference stand back cuz this is more than raps I've written it's patterns, rhythms, equations and vacuum physics tracks so vivid critics have to listen got your favorite rapper sniffing outside the master's kitchen
1981, and my mother is watching me breathe as she rocks me to sleep on green hospital sheets 1985, and my mother taught to me to read and cracked open a universe of options for me now it's two thousand something, and I got some dope production catch me getting stoned and letting go old assumptions and poison lessons, the machine feels threatened cuz a child can destroy you with one simple question ...thinking back to physics, math and English class teachers had me feeling wicked bad for the gifts I had if we behave, they let us out for some air I was young, but I could see the how and the where but the what and the why kinda fucked with my mind something inside me knew that it was nothing but lies easy to bitch about some meaningless shit but never even admit what really needs to be fixed so whatever people are saying, I'm not even debating the simple fact school is obedience training but here's an honest salute to the quality few a million good people who have gotten us though but get in line and never try to second-guess the leader? that's brainwashing, baby, not respecting teachers here's a quality concept, find yourself a payphone call in a bomb threat, and now everyone can stay home 1996 a strip on my tongue talk with Goddess plus a round trip to the sun 2001 and I see our parents depressed cuz everything they fought for is apparently dead but I'm turning twentysomething, I got some dope production catch me getting stoned and letting go of old assumptions and dreams living life with substance and teeth because love is supreme 1981 and my mother's watching me breathe as she rocks me to sleep on green hospital sheets 1985 and my mother taught me to read and cracked open a universe of options for me thank you for that, now I'm dedicating this track to stating the fact that I'll be paying you back by making contributions, changes, improvements creating new solutions with the patience of a buddhist I say it and I'll prove it
we live in the darkness of shitty apartments we get depressed, obsess and second guess we tend to lose faith every twenty two days but we still create, grow build and break bones ...dedicated to the weird kids that hear this stay fearless, and look past the appearance I wrote the book on naked massage and made a collage with papers from my neighbor's garage everyone insists they spit doper than you yeah, I play strip poker at the Smithsonian, too (whoo) I'm over it, dude -- all that games that I played are breaking up like paper mache and fading away cynics can't swallow an ounce of my liquid sat down to vibe with it and drowned in five minutes age six, I was a comfortable kid had a whole lotta legos and I loved where I lived but something just flipped up inside of my head and now I kinda regret most of the life that I led shucks, still moving, though...sleeping at the studio doing shows, hop offstage and watch the rumors grow.... (that's just how we do it, bro) whatchu bitch about? whatchu think you can't live without? the image that you kick around, sitting down? whatchu love to hate? what's your last bad drunk mistake? tell me when we're gonna raise the fucking stakes? whatchu wanna be? what's your best guess prophecy? what's the plan, man, talk to me, honestly whatchu need from me? whats your comfort zone frequency? what's it take to make the people free, equally? whatchu doing NOW? to help a fellow human out? I used to have to prove it now there's room for doubt what DO I believe in? everybody suffers for a reason love with the blood that gives it meaning we live in the darkness of shitty apartments we get depressed, obsess and second guess we tend to lose faith every twenty two days but we still create, grow build and break cages


An uncompromising head trip, the debut EP from Algorhythms was a mission statement. Dense, personal lyrics and Dr. Quandary's epic and psychedelic beats made this short project appear much larger than actual size.

Out of print.

"All in all, Algorhythms’ self titled EP is one of the best albums I’ve ever heard. I’ve listened to it easily a dozen times in the last week or so, and although it’s under half an hour in length it never gets old. These two are incredible and you need to give them a listen." – Alex Wirtz,


released February 2, 2008

lyrics and vocals by Thirtyseven
beats by Dr. Quandary





Algorhythms is a psychedelic rap duo, featuring lyrics by Thirtyseven and beats by Dr. Quandary.

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