Darkly Dreaming

Do you hear that bumping bass?
That's my heart beating in my face
The organ boxing inside my chest
I wonder if you can see rumbling flesh
I see it lying on this table
Tied down with cords and cables
Mics hung around from the ceiling
And broken earbuds to create feeling
Stacks of CDs as tall as a man
Tattered reports that read SoundScan
EPs neatly tucked away
The packaged vinyls just wanna play
Albums and mixtapes are scattered
But theres only one thing that matters
Laying in front of me neatly gift wrapped
Is a shiny new production track

They call me a murderer, a killer
But I consider my self a pillar
If their owners don't put them down
Then I should lay some of my sound
Ritual first: all preparation
First I pick a destination
A quiet location, no background noise
A perfect place to store my toys
And then, we find a target
Only the sick ones are on market
Once you're trained: you can hear them
But to an amateur: they all sound blend
Do some research, know your enemy
Know it's history and it's memories
My victims are never chosen randomly
They provide me a sort of remedy

You put the beat in lock down
Make sure don't talk sound
You then put it on pause
Know your reason. Know your cause
Place it on the CD reader
Get ready to turn up the speaker
First feel out it's thoughts
What colors? Cold or hot?
Analyze every single drum beat
808 or just some dumb cheat?
Listen to the piercing treble
Before you send it to the Devil
Before you pack it inside crates
You feel its heart beat bass
Get out your tools of destruction
Time to lay waste to the production

Make sure you go and press play
And it has everything you say
Then you click on the solemn stop
That's how you make the Hip-Hop