Lyrics Slap the Sun - Invisible Inc.

Someday I'm gonna wake up with my pathos to race
Hop out of bed, hop in my step, and slap the sun in the face
Hopped up on hope,
The hops and oats are closed and wrapped up on their case
In case this happens, I'll be rapping fast and be clapping the bass
The San Francisco's sky's flyin since I don't feel blue today
I'll spit my game at fog and actively be mackin' the gray
All [?] down the stairs excited while I'm racking my brain
Can't put a damper on my mood, I love the hammering rain

Someday I'll hit the streets, emerging happy, purging happy on the mic
And on the table bumping cuts like funky surgeons might
My lane is merging right, so when I signal wrong I take a breath
And and chose a path that gets me
Through the sunrise from the night instead
I'm heading to a vision that's been hidden in dark
Where Rosa Parks and Carl Marx enjoy the treatment of stars
Were breathing in bars, is needed then were reading too far
Into barbaric clerical errors where terror is large

Someday I'm gonna wake up with my pathos to race
Hop out of bed, hop in my step, and slap the sun in the face
Hopped up on hope,
The hops and oats are closed and wrapped up on their case
In case this happens, I'll be rapping fast and be clapping the bass
The San Francisco's sky's flyin since I don't feel blue today
I'll spit my game at fog and actively be mackin' the gray
All [?] down the stairs excited while I'm racking my brain
Can't put a damper on my mood, I love the hammering rain

Yo, I'm tired of you saying congress is stacked
You're making me laugh, thinking of the patriot act
You're making an ass, of Nasa and I'm taking it back
Instead of sending monkeys into space to taking a crack
At being president, my sentiment is not to pen the penitent
Yes men peddling the head nod etiquette
Pez dispenser politicians get a better record in
The matter of dispensing bread And butter to the masses
I penned a letter to my senator,
To let her know I'm ready for a bit of
Better Weather after cleansing and metaphor
Closure is what I set it for, exposure is what I sent it for
And those who bet on four more years, are who I meant it for
A shedding of a [?] cover has begun,
The second coming kind of failed so now we're back to one
The burning bush is pushing papers, but his dad is done
So when I wake up in the morning I'ma slap the sun