by Sir KN8

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A lil taste of the abstract-rhymin' experimental minstrelsy prefatory to the upcoming full length QUANTUM ELECTRO FLAVOR DYNAMICS
coming out this Fall 2014.
This here mini-quest features beats by Possible Beast and a very special appearance by Fritz Cook.
SHOW AND SMELL RECORDINGS 2014 check out other fresh smellin beats and words at


Mind like a crystal: thoughts up in the cracks. Mental. Dental: flossin. RAP.
Awesome in my acts, potent in intentions.
Pickin up the little piece of paper and pokin it with the pen's end.
Tryin to be honest with ya, dont wanna hurt your feelins:
Theres other ones just like ya numbered in the tens of millions.
Who is gonna miss ya, in the universal?
Comin full circle: Mind like a crystal.
Fire a missle, yep and it didn't miss, for I wished to form this verse well.
Take the consequences if and when the music goes commercial.
Rhymes I got a headful, pens she got a purse full.
Flip an English opus like my name was Henry Purcell.
I'm like Lancelot or Percival, except my sword isn't literal.
More songs than problems, more soul than material properties:
But I do note the interdependence of the terms that form these binaries.
I with my Selfhood, the world without with Otherness.
The world without which smells good, on this side of the blinding Nothingness.
Mutter this, drunk at this, grasping at the Oneness by the bounds of objects broken.
Enjoying some beer and crackers in the hallway of my practice space in Brooklyn.
Lookin like a monk, and I touch in like Midas:
If Midas made it funky and monks wore old adidas.
"Know thyself": its needless, its nothing but the echo of people in your presence's projection of you.
Potayto, potahto. Yall dont stress.
Yall know who say flows in plain clothes and dress.
Aint a test, its the real thing, baby. Bambino. Reale. Davvero. An arrow: here we go.
An ego: an aggregate of the accidents I've acted.
Pig is in the blanket, the eagle has landed.
It is or it isn't, it ain't or it's not.
In your opinion: potate or potot?
At the plate and I swat, it's like I'm a sultan.
(Maybe you should look up the lyrics or somethin?)
Knight, self-sufficient, kinda lone gunman.
Let it all go, now I aint own nothin.
Blow-uppin, set-offin. It's on, and they're off in the contents of ontics, unsaid yet said often.
Knockin an arrow of desire, walkin the wire of my self-hood:
Tired and talkin to myself: Is it right? Does it smell good?
Is all this a shadow of what it shall be but is not though?
Paper or plastic? Potayto, potahto.

Freefloating objects in the cosmical dance
With our essences poking out the crotches of our pants.
Crouchin with the lance: plans, he pounced.
Spells it with the silent K, sometimes they can't pronounce it.
Trounce, entracin with an ounce of with and cancelin out the calcitrant
Channeling spirits of the sheer boundless fountain spit
Found it out, now down with it. Down? pound it. Bow down to it,
Spit it, EQ'd it, and mixed it, now bouncin it.
Bound to slip, wasted, then wake up to Music.
"How long you been weeping? Make love to a woman?"
Puttin it out there and doin, not puttin but swingin.
A hole in one, stuffed it. Now what was I singin?
A thing-in-the-stuff. It's stiff. You know whose.
Throttle for my bottle of the infinite flow juice.
Images that flutter in the lattice of the inner ear
Where it's at, have it here. Have it all, and beer
Free association: pay no dues
Shadows on the cave ceiling, Plato's blues.
Let's make a play date: Plato and booze.
Get big or stay good?: I aint gonna choose.
Underwhelming rappers? Aint no use.
Potaytos, potahtoos.

[Fritz Cook:]
Potato potawtoe
Nelly Fertado
Amor y amargo
Till I'm consado
Caveman grotto
Potato potato
Potawtoe Potawtoe

Rather abstract: Jackson Pollock. Pack quite a wollop, grabbin the bull by the bollock.
Sure, a tad melancholic. But man, how exotic! Have a horse out in the paddock for to course
across the cosmic. Mad skill, I floss it. Have it and I havent lost it.
Lasso the rap flow and not get tossed off of it.
Off on an apposite awesome spit as oft as the God offers it.
Aloft lifted on the wind and waftin in the authored wit.
All thralled in awe of it. Raw solid baller shit. Bowl over all of it. Roll call: my balls and dick.
On a quick freefall to Tartarus, bard of this. All falls apart: a glitch. Floss off the tartar, bitch.
Regard of which Ill switch it, writ a hit to get the wreath.
The inner beast with pieces of the knight between its teeth.
Near or farther, free or barter, death and birth in wheeling grief.
Whee!, it's really life: gripe, or like the feeling. Be a leaf by a breeze gripped.
Live a little bit: free and easy, chief. Sip a little, keep it simple. Yes please: cheesy grits.
Yes, please. Yea, Lord. Way more. Pile it on. Pile it in. Paladin. I'm a Knight. I'm a Pawn.
Mad gone, cocked, amok. The macrocosm: floatin on the sempiternal pond a lotus blossom.
O its awesome, and some. Am the Wanted and the Ransom, and the sprawled imagination of the
Intersubjective in action. Yeah and its a passion. Yeah and since its offered, yes I'll dip my toe in it
and test the cosmic water. Yes I want it all. Yes I have enough. They say you never know.
Ya better live it up.
Said its better to laugh, it ain't bad at all, as I bit off a half of the adderol.
A few were sure-footed and had to fall: oh phewf! I aint followed that fad at all!
I found a bat, hit it and had a ball:
I rounded a base and I rounded a base and I rounded a base and was in by a follicle
Safe! with the knight's helmet hiding my face.
I in my place and the God in His firmament, firm on the microphone puttin the hurt on.
Even in victory nothing is permanent, meanwhile the crowd goin wild like girls gone.
On, hurlin swirlin song. Word, its on. Heard and saw him: swore he wore his sword along.
Served word for a furlong. Aint forlorn for long. Aint Nate: Nate's gone!
Rainin and aint an awnin on. Aint wanin, weigin in on and on.
Wrong: better: bet we're beyond capacity
The rap game's regular Hopalong Cassidy
Can't we get along? get along doggie, dancin free
Yep I can and that'll be the answer if you're askin me

"When the Lamb opened the seventh seal there was silence in heaven for about an hour."
I want to give myself up to godly thought,
up in the sense of an upward lilt
in the feel of my thinkings --
Give myself up to the desire
to not want.
Stay outta my head, and inside the moment
Not just an actor but a conscious agent
Posit the mystic, kinda positivistic
Let it all hang out, the loss of the innocence
Let me be a messenger
Massaging her
The earth with the intentions of the father.
Gaze on the day, and doze in its deity
Give me whatever I desire and I promise to desire whatever you give me.
Swingin round my mic like a phallic symbol
Music like the shadow of god on the perceptible
Live the gift of life as an expression of my gratitude
Do what I have to and I aint half bad at it dude.
Yea, tho my body and my rhyme flow be swallowed by eternal darkness
Yet shall I echo in memory insofar as a bore the form of they infinite possibilities
Let me abandon even this consolation and live in thy glory, naked and fleeting.
Phonating the organized concepts from A's mouth the B's ear,
So nice to be here.
Vision seeing and saying, the same diff
Synesthetic invented and I sang it whiff
Hate a Satan of Selfhood that I aint with
Sang with a love of real Self and rain gifts.
"Walk in the light while ye have the light.
I woke you in the morning so shine."
I'm annihilating my selfhood
I'm gonna be my self good
Ima do what my true self should
Set myself free I shall. Shword.
You have stress in this world?
I have conquered the world.


released July 11, 2014
Words: Sir kN8, and Fritz Cook in the second song.
Beats by Possible Beast.

(c) 2014



all rights reserved


Sir KN8 Brooklyn, New York


The "k" is silent. Like in "Knight". The numeral 8 makes an "ate" sound.

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