[{"id":12160562,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru","albumName":"MEATHEAD","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru\n  album: MEATHEAD\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":6730770,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru/MF DOOM","albumName":"MEATHEAD","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru/MF DOOM\n  album: MEATHEAD\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":10140688,"name":"Meathead","trackName":"Meathead","artistName":"Bishop Nehru","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea\nWatchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip\nTorn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red\nGhetto and street-bred\nAll crooked DTs and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free,  he\nIs who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level 5\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber\nWith your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\"\nThird-timer slurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life\nThey bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him\nDo he really give a fuck-shit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\nWhen I die, fuck it\nI guess I prefer me goin' to Hell\nBecause Earth is truly the same\nSo the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail\nCaptain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all\nOf these other fails his trail never derail\nHis mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from\nThe simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin'\nLike he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes\nMy only vice advice is like a satellite\nI see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've\nBeen grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts\nOf Saint Nicholas breakin' in\nLeavin' gifts for all the\nWorld's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance\nThe emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus\nAs these jokers appear i been acceleratin'\nI already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes\nI'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love\nThey livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin'\nBut never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back actually\nI been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror\nThey closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor\nI play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson\nDirectin' these beginners too illustrious\nI leave the sucker fit's to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga\nThat's dinner i remember when my shine was\nA little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light\nI leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I\nLeave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss\nThis kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive\nAnd it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nA angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.12] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.48] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.37] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.44] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.06] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.36] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.34] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.00] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.76] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.51] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.77] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.23] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.08] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.71] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.04] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.32] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.01] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.16] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.65] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.91] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.82] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.33] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.82] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.57] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.49] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.00] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.01] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.12] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.62] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.99] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.46] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.86] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.44] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.41] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.27] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.21] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.22] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.14] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.84] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.81] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.75] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.58] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.23] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.36] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.25] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.29] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.72] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.06] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.77] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.75] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Meathead\n  artist: Bishop Nehru\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3120\n  end_ms: 6480\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6480\n  end_ms: 9370\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9370\n  end_ms: 12440\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12440\n  end_ms: 15060\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15060\n  end_ms: 19360\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19360\n  end_ms: 21340\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21340\n  end_ms: 24000\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24000\n  end_ms: 26760\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26760\n  end_ms: 29510\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29510\n  end_ms: 32770\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32770\n  end_ms: 35230\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35230\n  end_ms: 39080\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39080\n  end_ms: 41710\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41710\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46320\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46320\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55160\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55160\n  end_ms: 57650\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57650\n  end_ms: 58910\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58910\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64820\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64820\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70330\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70330\n  end_ms: 72820\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72820\n  end_ms: 75570\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75570\n  end_ms: 78490\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78490\n  end_ms: 81000\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81000\n  end_ms: 84010\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84010\n  end_ms: 87120\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87120\n  end_ms: 89620\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89620\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94990\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94990\n  end_ms: 96460\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96460\n  end_ms: 98860\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98860\n  end_ms: 101440\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101440\n  end_ms: 104410\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104410\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110210\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110210\n  end_ms: 113220\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113220\n  end_ms: 116140\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116140\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 124750\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124750\n  end_ms: 127580\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127580\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 136250\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136250\n  end_ms: 139290\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139290\n  end_ms: 141720\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141720\n  end_ms: 145060\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145060\n  end_ms: 147770\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147770\n  end_ms: 152750\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152750\n  end_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea\n  Watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip\n  Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red\n  Ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked DTs and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free,  he\n  Is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level 5\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber\n  With your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\"\n  Third-timer slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life\n  They bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him\n  Do he really give a fuck-shit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  When I die, fuck it\n  I guess I prefer me goin' to Hell\n  Because Earth is truly the same\n  So the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail\n  Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all\n  Of these other fails his trail never derail\n  His mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from\n  The simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin'\n  Like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes\n  My only vice advice is like a satellite\n  I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've\n  Been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts\n  Of Saint Nicholas breakin' in\n  Leavin' gifts for all the\n  World's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance\n  The emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus\n  As these jokers appear i been acceleratin'\n  I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes\n  I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love\n  They livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin'\n  But never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back actually\n  I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror\n  They closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor\n  I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson\n  Directin' these beginners too illustrious\n  I leave the sucker fit's to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga\n  That's dinner i remember when my shine was\n  A little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light\n  I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I\n  Leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss\n  This kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive\n  And it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  A angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":31539428,"name":"MEATHEAD (feat. Bishop Nehru)","trackName":"MEATHEAD (feat. Bishop Nehru)","artistName":"MF DOOM","albumName":"The Best MC Ya Ever Heard (Bootleg)","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.12] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.48] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.37] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.44] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.06] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.36] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.34] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.00] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.76] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.51] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.77] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.23] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.08] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.71] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.04] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.32] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.01] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.16] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.65] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.91] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.82] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.33] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.82] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.57] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.49] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.00] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.01] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.12] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.62] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.99] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.46] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.86] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.44] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.41] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.27] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.21] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.22] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.14] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.84] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.81] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.75] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.58] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.23] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.36] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.25] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.29] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.72] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.06] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.77] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.75] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD (feat. Bishop Nehru)\n  artist: MF DOOM\n  album: The Best MC Ya Ever Heard (Bootleg)\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3120\n  end_ms: 6480\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6480\n  end_ms: 9370\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9370\n  end_ms: 12440\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12440\n  end_ms: 15060\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15060\n  end_ms: 19360\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19360\n  end_ms: 21340\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21340\n  end_ms: 24000\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24000\n  end_ms: 26760\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26760\n  end_ms: 29510\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29510\n  end_ms: 32770\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32770\n  end_ms: 35230\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35230\n  end_ms: 39080\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39080\n  end_ms: 41710\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41710\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46320\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46320\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55160\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55160\n  end_ms: 57650\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57650\n  end_ms: 58910\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58910\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64820\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64820\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70330\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70330\n  end_ms: 72820\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72820\n  end_ms: 75570\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75570\n  end_ms: 78490\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78490\n  end_ms: 81000\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81000\n  end_ms: 84010\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84010\n  end_ms: 87120\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87120\n  end_ms: 89620\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89620\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94990\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94990\n  end_ms: 96460\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96460\n  end_ms: 98860\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98860\n  end_ms: 101440\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101440\n  end_ms: 104410\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104410\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110210\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110210\n  end_ms: 113220\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113220\n  end_ms: 116140\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116140\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 124750\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124750\n  end_ms: 127580\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127580\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 136250\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136250\n  end_ms: 139290\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139290\n  end_ms: 141720\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141720\n  end_ms: 145060\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145060\n  end_ms: 147770\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147770\n  end_ms: 152750\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152750\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":6785313,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru ft. DOOM","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru ft. DOOM\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":14107335,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"MF DOOM & Bishop Nehru","albumName":"NEHRUVIANDOOM","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: MF DOOM & Bishop Nehru\n  album: NEHRUVIANDOOM\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":12092035,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru, MF DOOM","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":185.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru, MF DOOM\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 185000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":27621331,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru feat. DOOM","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.12] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.48] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.37] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.44] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.06] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.36] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.34] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.00] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.76] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.51] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.77] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.23] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.08] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.71] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.04] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.32] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.01] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.16] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.65] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.91] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.82] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.33] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.82] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.57] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.49] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.00] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.01] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.12] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.62] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.99] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.46] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.86] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.44] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.41] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.27] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.21] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.22] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.14] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.84] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.81] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.75] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.58] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.23] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.36] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.25] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.29] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.72] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.06] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.77] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.75] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru feat. DOOM\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3120\n  end_ms: 6480\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6480\n  end_ms: 9370\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9370\n  end_ms: 12440\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12440\n  end_ms: 15060\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15060\n  end_ms: 19360\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19360\n  end_ms: 21340\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21340\n  end_ms: 24000\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24000\n  end_ms: 26760\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26760\n  end_ms: 29510\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29510\n  end_ms: 32770\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32770\n  end_ms: 35230\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35230\n  end_ms: 39080\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39080\n  end_ms: 41710\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41710\n  end_ms: 44040\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44040\n  end_ms: 46320\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46320\n  end_ms: 50010\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50010\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55160\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55160\n  end_ms: 57650\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57650\n  end_ms: 58910\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58910\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64820\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64820\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70330\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70330\n  end_ms: 72820\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72820\n  end_ms: 75570\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75570\n  end_ms: 78490\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78490\n  end_ms: 81000\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81000\n  end_ms: 84010\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84010\n  end_ms: 87120\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87120\n  end_ms: 89620\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89620\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94990\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94990\n  end_ms: 96460\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96460\n  end_ms: 98860\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98860\n  end_ms: 101440\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101440\n  end_ms: 104410\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104410\n  end_ms: 107270\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107270\n  end_ms: 110210\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110210\n  end_ms: 113220\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113220\n  end_ms: 116140\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116140\n  end_ms: 118840\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118840\n  end_ms: 121810\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121810\n  end_ms: 124750\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124750\n  end_ms: 127580\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127580\n  end_ms: 130230\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130230\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 136250\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136250\n  end_ms: 139290\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139290\n  end_ms: 141720\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141720\n  end_ms: 145060\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145060\n  end_ms: 147770\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147770\n  end_ms: 152750\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152750\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":12003284,"name":"Meathead (feat. MF Doom)","trackName":"Meathead (feat. MF Doom)","artistName":"Bishop Nehru","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":185.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Meathead (feat. MF Doom)\n  artist: Bishop Nehru\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 185000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":37393341,"name":"MEATHEAD (feat. MF DOOM)","trackName":"MEATHEAD (feat. MF DOOM)","artistName":"Bishop Nehru","albumName":"BBC Radio 6 Music","duration":62.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19]I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41]And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33]On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47]All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05]Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33]Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32]It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08]What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79]Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50]Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73]Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26]Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06]Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79]Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02]And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38]Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08]From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36]Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13]No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63]Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94]When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87]Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85]He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69]Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38]His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83]As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56]It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40]The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07]Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08]Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11]Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67]Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50]Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95]And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44]They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85]All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47]I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47]He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24]And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27]I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27]They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18]Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83]Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83]He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78]Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56]Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22]I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37]Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22]They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26]Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70]Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07]I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73]An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76]And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56]","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD (feat. MF DOOM)\n  artist: Bishop Nehru\n  album: BBC Radio 6 Music\n  duration_ms: 62000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":6730769,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru feat. MF DOOM","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru feat. MF DOOM\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"},{"id":11737303,"name":"MEATHEAD","trackName":"MEATHEAD","artistName":"Bishop Nehru ft. MF DOOM","albumName":"Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts","duration":186.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\nAnd left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\nOn the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\nAll crooked D.T's and feds can eat\nLead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\nMind your biz for me\nIt could even help you in the long run\nWhat good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\nShogun, invisible armor level five\nCouldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\nPlayin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\nOld enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\nAlthough prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\nSlurred word primer, dime a mama\nAnd make sure it stay tight, it's only right\nOwn the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\nFrom thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\nAsk him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\nNo ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\nStruck a nugget, duck, kid\n\nWhen I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\nBecause earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\nHe send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\nExcel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\nHis trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\nAs the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\nIt's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\nThe mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\nAdvice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\nFeel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\nKinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\nBreakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\nQuit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\nAnd learn to never give a shit\nThey never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\nAll the haze took focus as these jokers appear\nI been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\nHe save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\nAnd I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\nI change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\nThey say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\nDreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\nJust beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\nHe raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\nToo illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\nMade tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\nI remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\nNow it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\nThey tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\nDesigned to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\nLike shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\nI put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\nAn angel like mine know mine heaven sent\nAnd this the best it gets, bitch","syncedLyrics":"[00:03.19] I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n[00:06.41] And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n[00:09.33] On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n[00:12.47] All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n[00:15.05] Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n[00:19.33] Mind your biz for me\n[00:21.32] It could even help you in the long run\n[00:24.08] What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n[00:26.79] Shogun, invisible armor level five\n[00:29.50] Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n[00:32.73] Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n[00:35.26] Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n[00:39.06] Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n[00:41.79] Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n[00:44.02] And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n[00:46.38] Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n[00:50.08] From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n[00:52.36] Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n[00:55.13] No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n[00:57.63] Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n[00:58.94] When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n[01:01.87] Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n[01:04.85] He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n[01:07.69] Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n[01:10.38] His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n[01:12.83] As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n[01:15.56] It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n[01:18.40] The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n[01:21.07] Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n[01:24.08] Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n[01:27.11] Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n[01:29.67] Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n[01:32.50] Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n[01:34.95] And learn to never give a shit\n[01:36.44] They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n[01:38.85] All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n[01:41.47] I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n[01:44.47] He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n[01:47.24] And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n[01:50.27] I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n[01:53.27] They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n[01:56.18] Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n[01:58.83] Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n[02:01.83] He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n[02:04.78] Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n[02:07.56] Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n[02:10.22] I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n[02:13.37] Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n[02:16.22] They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n[02:19.26] Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n[02:21.70] Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n[02:25.07] I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n[02:27.73] An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n[02:32.76] And this the best it gets, bitch\n[02:39.56] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: MEATHEAD\n  artist: Bishop Nehru ft. MF DOOM\n  album: 'Nehruvia: My Disregarded Thoughts'\n  duration_ms: 186000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  start_ms: 3190\n  end_ms: 6410\n- text: And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  start_ms: 6410\n  end_ms: 9330\n- text: On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  start_ms: 9330\n  end_ms: 12470\n- text: All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  start_ms: 12470\n  end_ms: 15050\n- text: Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  start_ms: 15050\n  end_ms: 19330\n- text: Mind your biz for me\n  start_ms: 19330\n  end_ms: 21320\n- text: It could even help you in the long run\n  start_ms: 21320\n  end_ms: 24080\n- text: What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  start_ms: 24080\n  end_ms: 26790\n- text: Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  start_ms: 26790\n  end_ms: 29500\n- text: Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  start_ms: 29500\n  end_ms: 32730\n- text: Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  start_ms: 32730\n  end_ms: 35260\n- text: Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  start_ms: 35260\n  end_ms: 39060\n- text: Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  start_ms: 39060\n  end_ms: 41790\n- text: Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  start_ms: 41790\n  end_ms: 44020\n- text: And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  start_ms: 44020\n  end_ms: 46380\n- text: Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  start_ms: 46380\n  end_ms: 50080\n- text: From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  start_ms: 50080\n  end_ms: 52360\n- text: Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  start_ms: 52360\n  end_ms: 55130\n- text: No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  start_ms: 55130\n  end_ms: 57630\n- text: Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n  start_ms: 57630\n  end_ms: 58940\n- text: When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  start_ms: 58940\n  end_ms: 61870\n- text: Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  start_ms: 61870\n  end_ms: 64850\n- text: He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  start_ms: 64850\n  end_ms: 67690\n- text: Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  start_ms: 67690\n  end_ms: 70380\n- text: His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  start_ms: 70380\n  end_ms: 72830\n- text: As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  start_ms: 72830\n  end_ms: 75560\n- text: It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  start_ms: 75560\n  end_ms: 78400\n- text: The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  start_ms: 78400\n  end_ms: 81070\n- text: Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  start_ms: 81070\n  end_ms: 84080\n- text: Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  start_ms: 84080\n  end_ms: 87110\n- text: Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  start_ms: 87110\n  end_ms: 89670\n- text: Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  start_ms: 89670\n  end_ms: 92500\n- text: Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  start_ms: 92500\n  end_ms: 94950\n- text: And learn to never give a shit\n  start_ms: 94950\n  end_ms: 96440\n- text: They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  start_ms: 96440\n  end_ms: 98850\n- text: All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  start_ms: 98850\n  end_ms: 101470\n- text: I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  start_ms: 101470\n  end_ms: 104470\n- text: He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  start_ms: 104470\n  end_ms: 107240\n- text: And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  start_ms: 107240\n  end_ms: 110270\n- text: I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  start_ms: 110270\n  end_ms: 113270\n- text: They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  start_ms: 113270\n  end_ms: 116180\n- text: Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  start_ms: 116180\n  end_ms: 118830\n- text: Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  start_ms: 118830\n  end_ms: 121830\n- text: He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  start_ms: 121830\n  end_ms: 124780\n- text: Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  start_ms: 124780\n  end_ms: 127560\n- text: Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  start_ms: 127560\n  end_ms: 130220\n- text: I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  start_ms: 130220\n  end_ms: 133370\n- text: Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  start_ms: 133370\n  end_ms: 136220\n- text: They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  start_ms: 136220\n  end_ms: 139260\n- text: Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  start_ms: 139260\n  end_ms: 141700\n- text: Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  start_ms: 141700\n  end_ms: 145070\n- text: I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  start_ms: 145070\n  end_ms: 147730\n- text: An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  start_ms: 147730\n  end_ms: 152760\n- text: And this the best it gets, bitch\n  start_ms: 152760\n  end_ms: 159560\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 159560\nplain: |-\n  I sip a hot tea, watchin' Archie flip on Meathead\n  And left the page Rip Torn writin' what the beat said\n  On the mic he's heat-red, ghetto and street-bred\n  All crooked D.T's and feds can eat\n  Lead, wheat, and gluten free, he is who he is, is who he be\n  Mind your biz for me\n  It could even help you in the long run\n  What good's a song if the jawn's no fun, son?\n  Shogun, invisible armor level five\n  Couldn't penetrate the bomber with your llama, stay alive\n  Playin' jive, beamin' on the telemetry\n  Old enough to be your uncle, prime time MC\n  Although prefer the term \"rhymer\", third-timer\n  Slurred word primer, dime a mama\n  And make sure it stay tight, it's only right\n  Own the daylight and the night life, they bite trife\n  From thug to bug to happy-go-lucky shit\n  Ask him, do he really give a fuckshit? Tuck it\n  No ice bucket list, suck it (yeah)\n  Struck a nugget, duck, kid\n\n  When I die, fuck it, I guess I prefer me goin' to hell\n  Because earth is truly the same, so the difference I'll never tell\n  He send it like it's the mail, Captain Bishy set his sail\n  Excel like Microsoft on all of these other fails\n  His trail never derail, his mental's the Holy Grail\n  As the stress gets released from the simplest of inhales\n  It's sealed from all the chantin', like he holdin' up a strike\n  The mic's his only light, alikes, my only vice\n  Advice is like a satellite, I see them try and dish\n  Feel I'm dyin' in the skies, I've been grantin' this kid's wish, it's\n  Kinda ridiculous like thoughts of Saint Nicholas\n  Breakin' in, leavin' gifts for all the world's underprivileged kids\n  Quit with the ignorance, the emperor's legitimate\n  And learn to never give a shit\n  They never gettin' it, I'm makin' it clear\n  All the haze took focus as these jokers appear\n  I been acceleratin', I already know where to steer\n  He save face, no brakes, I'm just peepin' the rear\n  And I been livin' out of love, they livin' in they fear\n  I change ways, I'm cruisin', but never changin' the gears\n  They say that he back, actually, I been at it for years\n  Dreams the side-view mirror, they closer than they appear\n  Just beware of the emperor, I play the game's vendor\n  He raps Wes Anderson, directin' these beginners\n  Too illustrious, I leave the sucker fits to the pretenders\n  Made tenders as I played Simba, nigga, that's dinner\n  I remember when my shine was a little bit dimmer\n  Now it's bright, and the light, I leave 'em blind from the shimmer\n  They tryna play the blinds, I leave 'em fallin' like, \"timber\"\n  Designed to rise from this abyss, this kid's art differs\n  Like shivers, he's the coldest vibe alive, and it's evident\n  I put the pride to the side, it's irrelevant\n  An angel like mine know mine heaven sent\n  And this the best it gets, bitch\n"}]