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"The Fletcher-Munsen Curve" lyrics by WHITE COLLAR CRIMINALS
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"The Fletcher-Munsen Curve"

JON says listen to the context
Nonsense is spitted from the onset
The concept is there is no concept
Honest I'm living to be songless
Pon'drance given where the Conch is
Gone are the limits of your bondage
Taunted by many golden launches
Homage for kids who mind their conscience
I've been taught that rhyming
For the diamonds and the platinum
Ain't the way to make it happen
Cuz the shining is the mind and
Not the climbing up the stacks and
It ain't the placement on the racks man
Listen to the heart and not the charts bro
Shatter from the start or fall apart slow
That's the hardest part? I thought so
Practicing the mark'll put a dagger in the art

Fugitive fingerprints lifted from the sink
Rubber gloves plugged with ink, one would think
The funk of drink isn't odd, is it?
Escort service is livid, didn't visit
Dividends raised to midget senseis
Rent's paid, and French braids for ten days
Feds play the tapes back
Making guilty parties wish that they'd erased that
Infected needle in a haystack was found
Chasin after the help to pat her down
No more cap and gown, the cuffs clicked
Drugs sniffed by trained noses, busted
Searched for hours, no hope in sight
Eyes open wide, seeing a broken pipe
Quite an oversight of the forensic team
Even Cochran can't defend a fiend, end the scene

It's no accident that we've been put before you
Adamant that what you need to know
Is brandishing your talents like a sword to
Tap into the force and feel the flow
Guardians of positivity and change
Putting on a hellafied show
If the audience ain't ready for the strain
Then tell me what the hell they here fo?
Though love I curse and put you down
But it's only cuz I want to see you grow
Wizened in the ways of slangin sounds
So I'm clowning when you stumble as you go
Inexperience'll lead to wearing crowns
For now, baby steps are how you get around
If you never swim, well then, you'll never drown
But if you never try you're never found test your limits

Only double time I'm down with sixty plus a week
Come combust with me, man we crush a beat
So CPR's a kiss of death
Are you arisen yet, frigid with imprisoned breath
Give Annette my best wishes In Dreams of flicks
Never lending credence to your greed and bliss
Cheeba hits for demon kids, nitro practice
Maestro massive subtract the psychoactives
Knifes and acid leave your promo gear with holes
Lend me an ear I'll sear the weirdest soul
Spill convos to fist fly friends
And see your life with a fish eye lens
Why mend a bridge over a porn 'stache
Stitching Ecko labels over you Jordache
What's the format, pasty as hell
Even Damien said I'll make your cranium melt

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