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"Not Your Average Remix" lyrics by MUPHIN
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"Not Your Average Remix"

[Verse 1:]
Empty promises I'm tryna help you see
Like an optometrist travels kilometres
This wanderer always on the lookout
Shook my mouth and the truth spilled out now
Where can I go without the start?
How can I grow without the starch?
I use my heart but half the time it gets ripped apart
So I cart myself off into the corner
Sick of being this depressed, stressed emcee mourner
I sorta oughta get my life into order
Cross that border, end the self-mutilation and all the torture
I sorta oughta get my life into order
As I drink, think, blink, I sorta just drift
I must re-arrange this with a raised fist
And take this shape because my life is sacred
And I won't waste it, no I won't waste it
No I won't WASTE it!

I'm staring at my reflection
In the puddles
Standing at the intersection
Head muddled
Swept in by depression
Mind puzzled
Attempt for a recollection
Of her cuddles
Flashing by are a million questions
In a huddle
Now when I'm feeing threatened
I remain subtle

[Verse 2:]
All our lives we try to stay organised
But I'm one of those guys who tries but just struggles
People say this and that but can't remain subtle
They burst the bubble of tact, fact
I always manage to be caught in the rush
I lay on my back laughing at the wack
But in reality that won't make me put down the next rap
I snap on tracks, we all know that
No format, plans I lack
But now it's time for the blueprint map
Yeah boy, assume the position
The ammunition's loaded so move on back
The cracks must be sealed
You smackies must peal off the addiction
Forget the next deal, roll the reel
With a better life filmed with some light
With more delight than the Turks
I go berserk, I'm making my life work right
You heard some tight rhythm
This is what I'm giving, living but I'm slipping
Winning but I'm sinking in the world of competition
My expeditions cause collisions
My mission, a nice place, a wife with a smiling face
Maybe some kids but I'll take this at a slow pace
No ages of race, don't want to waste
Nor make a hasty decision
Who am I kidding? No idea how I'll make a living
Sitting on the bench
Forty degrees of heat, soaking up the stench
Drenched in sweat from trying to predict where I'll get
But I won't let the world get the better of me yet
I won't let it get the better of me yet


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