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oh​-​blivion (prod. Sol)

by Tread

/

about

payin' homage to Sol's "2020" by rappin' and reppin' the instrumental from his 2012 album, "Yours Truly."

lyrics

it's all over, it's all over, a misnomer, as if the Iliad of Homer were a misread letter homeward
to the homeworld, I'm a clover of a loner dreamin' up a rappers life, stuck inside a coma,
tethering these words and sentences together so I show up on your sonar till I'm so large I'm your solar
system, I rap so profound every word I spits your inner dictum of unwritten wisdom,
my words a beam of light inside a prism, rainbow on the other side, the single light of all existence
soft moonlight reflecting off a drop of rain, I glisten as you listen for a lesson, rap delicatessen,
signing pacts of nonaggression with these bouts of manic depression, as if Zoloft were a weapon I can use
to release tension, I reckon that my essence would return with practiced presence, I found myself in that split second
of complex affection you read through my sad inflections as reflections of protection after natural selection,
it's survival of the fittest so defeat your inner critic, cus the ground will make you wicked, and playing God in Cloud's the
limit, till your mind is filled with Guinness and your hand is holding tickets to the new world, take the quickest train
to creativity, left brain, the acid rain you're breathin' in with Mary Jane till the THC psychosis is the real, and you're sane,
my mane,

I'm eating dreams for my dinner, eating life for dessert, God's a winner and a loser, so I'm only half a convert
to Christianity, I know creation is his vanity, read it in a magazine until you start to defy gravity and laugh at me
I'm stuck straight onto the pavement as if reality's my fantasy and I break imaginations sanctity by working harder in a
factory, it's systemically tragic to pull rabbit from hat, it's a plastic rabbit, smash it on the stage and it goes 'splat'
'snap' 'crackle' and 'pop,' til the battlefield is filled with broken cars and parking lots, I cope with an OD on coke
with tobacco I choke, I'm so broke it's a joke told by Stanhope I hope, I exist as a strobelight in your frontal lobe,
binary sequence is speaking, my weakness is squeaking a thesis from my demons of genius, their secrets excreted by the love of
my hubris, I'm bruised cus I'm ruthless like Brutus, these words keep me rooted, my soul feels looted, gaze in the mirror asking
by God, who this, who this, who this?

credits

released December 9, 2014

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Tread image

Tread Powell River, British Columbia

Cosmic poetry in infinite motion until we realize there is no end, after which he keeps on rhyming
--**--ethereal
oddball
rap--**--

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