The Nausea

by Syqnys

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about

The Nausea is the fourth album from underground rapper Syqnys (Sickness).

credits

released 12 November 2013

Executive Producer: Syqnys. Mixing and Mastering: Syqnys. Additional vocals by Greydon Square, Baba Brinkman, Chy Frampton and Kritizizm. Music and production contributions from The Raphael Project, Steve Denton and Philly De.

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about

syqnys Salt Lake City, Utah

Syqnys is an independent emcee from Salt Lake City. He has released 4 studio albums. Syqnys' musical themes include Atheism, Politics, Social mores, contemporary pop culture, Gay Rights, Abortion, Racism, Sexism as well as many others. Syqnys' music contains explicit language and shouldn't be listened to by anyone under the age of 25 ... more

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Track Name: The Nausea
Verse 1:
He gave you the Melody and the Candy, took/ It to another level understand me? Look/ Hypatia's Reign had them standing shook/ Holding a motherfucking quantum mechanics book/ These kids trying to rap man they can't be took/ Seriously you understand me look/ These kids come at me get their candy took/ Fucking with Syq is like Sandy Hook/ Dropping the 4th album it's like an orgasm/ Down to your core spasm, like girls in porn have them/ He just gets more badder, badder and more badder/ poor little sick bastard, sick little poor bastard/ Panic attacks depression not really manic/ If he had mania he'd get shit done if he had it/ Dramatic little faggot be a man and get at it/ Get mad attack you little problems like a fucking fanatic/ With an automatic talking while I"m watching Titanic/ Pull it out and go bananas straight popping the static/ Man I've honestly had it, I'm sick of all of you damn it/ You're telling me to bring it if you want it then have it/ If you really want it bad then you got to go grab it/ Put it in the back of your van chop it and stab it/ cut them up, fuck them up drop bombs on them maggots/ crush them like ants human beings are fantastic/ Can you feel the Nausea, like my father in law /after we elected Obama, I'm dropping this lava/ hot as a menage a trios with Nikki Minaj, MIA and Madonna, you know that you wanna/ Grand-mamma and mamma/ This is my Nausea, listen I want ya/ to feel it I'm killing this I'm giving you all I can give you I got ya, right where I want ya, welcome to Nausea.

Part 2:
Verse 2:
Welcome to Nausea. Welcome to Anguish/ I'm in love with a dame and her name is Miss Fame-miss/ But she doesn't love me, no she thinks I'm ugly/ No she doesn't want me to be become her hubby/But keep her has a hobby, No I think she wants me/ the way that she haunts me keeps winking and taunting/ Yes, I want that earned fame that Albert Einstein fame that Edgar Allan Poe fame, welcome to my pain/ "Oh that poor over-privileged American white thing/ somebody get some Paxil and a pill for his migraine"/ give me more of that Loratab such a horrible life/ three beautiful children an adorable wife/ Oh deplorable strive that's why he's holding a knife, I'm being sarcastic, but do you know what it's like/ to be a no one that no one will ever know and you try to/ Be normal but there's a whole that keeps growing inside you?/ You try to find meaning your kids give you purpose/ but the question is: Without your kids are your worthless?/ You try to keep it together you're calm on the surface/ In your stomach there's a burning an inferno a furnace/ So what you'll never be famous you'll never be rich/ A normal life is better than this he said as he kissed/ His mistress goodbye they kissed he cried/ Would he finally find happiness after Syqnys died?

Chorus:
This is my Nausea, this is my pitiless pain/ This is my Nausea, chasing after riches and fame/ This is my Nausea, ah, isn't it just a shame/ eighty years on this earth and no one remembers your name?
(Repeat)

Verse 3:
My life is crisis of existential proportions/ My youth is dying inside me like third trimester abortions/ Try not to let the distortions I have fester and morph in-/ To the feeling a 10 year old orphan left at the orphanage, feels/ So let those endorphin's rush, I'll pretend they're more than/ just a cerebrum that has too many bends and contortions/ Give me a pen and this poor little pity party will end/ I'm going to quit the same year that Doc and Marty were in/ With my wife and kids I'll take my life and start it again/ Not take my life as in suicide, let me start this again/ I'll give up rapping, by then I'll have my bachelors in Physics, work on my Masters and give this famous ring back to my mistress (I don't need it)/ Wasted my twenties, I'm not wasting my thirties/ I'm not chasing her anymore she keeps playing and flirting/ I can't take it I'm hurting, laying here baking and burning/ I'm a vegetarian staring at that stake and I'm yearning/

Chorus.

"One thing will all adore/ it's the one thing worth fighting for/ Nothing but pain, stuck in this game/ searching for fortune and fame.
Track Name: Magic Curtain
Verse 1: We can't know truth all we can know is an approximation/ of knowledge made from a combination of contemplation and communication through conversation/ It's our consolation prize our minds are always racing/ it's a lot to take in my god forsaken noggin's aching/ Math is the language of truth but it's computations/ are too complicated. Math class? We don't want to take it/ We watch creationism get taught it's all gods creation/ it's all a blatant shot at religious indoctrination/ Wont stop till' they got kids praying, hurry the sun god Ra is waiting/ my crops need rain and I got this pain if you can't help me then I'll talk to Satan/ We watch our nation's population drop its face in slop and taste/ the toxic waste and watch them waste away almost not worth saving/ They're waiting for the altercation in fact they're pushing the confrontation/ If they think you can turn their kids away from god then they risk damnation/ They need more than condemnation, "We need to cut him chop him hang him/ off him where's's our mob will take him chain him to a cross and stake him/

Chorus: You pretend to know truth, you can not know/ What's behind your magic curtain? You'll never show. (Repeat)

Verse 2: God is dead (god is dead)/ don't get it twisted this isn't like the mop on top of a Rasta's head, ask an apostate if Allah's dead/ with his chopped off head lopped off that neck look at all that red/ kind of looks like a pasta, bet. I aint even got to the flying spaghetti monster yet/ It's shadow's here, but we got something to battle fear/ so gather your sheep and cattle near and tell your flock what they'd rather hear/ nothing but shit behind that veneer, no magic here behind that curtain I had to peer/ that was weird nothing but gadgets gears and a man appeared (Uh?)/ I'll tell you what I really think give me a quill some ink and I will go sink that feather quill ink/ and I'll wield the thing like I'ma kill your king make him knell to me cause' he is nil to me/ ... give me a quill some ink and I will just sink that feather quill ink/ and I'll wield the thing like I'ma kill your king make him knell to me cause' he is nil to me/ I'm sorry your highness, you don't follow rewind this/ see the godless don't like this that's why I ought to not write this/ I ought to slaughter with kindness and make songs for the mindless/ and talk about my money my cars and my diamonds/ because my market's as small as a mom and pop shop is/ "I feel sorry for your mama!" as I say this he drops his/ 40 and pops from his pocket a rocket pops getting popped and I just want to make noise at least as loud as that shot is/ so if I tell you that god is concocted I sound obnoxious / knowing how religious the world is let alone how hip hop is/ I should probably drop this stop this song it's so wrong it's so wrong I could re-'right' it and still be 'left' with its falseness/

Chorus

Verse 3: Sticks and stones can cripple bones/ but words can be like Obizzles drones/ missiles blow up kids in homes, oh wait don't get it twisted homes!/ I still rock an Obama sticker, on the back of my Elantra get your/ nonsense picture of Obama looking like Adolf come on he's not a Hitler/ You got to be kidding me you're getting me a little bit sick with your ignorant shit yeah you lit up this wick of the dynamite stick now I'm sitting here pissed (Ugh, fuck you!)/ Words can you touch you, burn you, cut you/ even those that hurt you can learn to love too/ you don't have to scream I heard you what you/ think they're going to do with your sermon, uh you/ think they're going to curse you? Fuck you! Worthless bum subversive scum you/ belong in that mud, that muck that mush that dirt you sunk to/ It haunts me at night see I want you to like me constantly writing always I try to be. thoughtful enlightening like I'm caught in a lighting storm palming a kite string/ too taught yeah it might be shocking me slightly it's oddly exciting/ watch me I'm rocking a mic see, never smoked pot but I got me a pipe dream/ I try to tell the truth but they treat me like a pariah/ throw your sire on the pyre and I light it on fire/ I can see why I ignited your ire/ I can understand why your lied to, but not why you're a liar/ Why you're a liar, why you're a liar/ the truth's behind that magic curtain you're just trying to hide her!
Chorus
Additional Chorus: Words can hurt you they can hurt you worse than sticks and stones/ they cut deep they can maim you they can cripple bones/ The truth can hurt believe me I know it can burn your eyes/ but shadows on the wall is all that you can learn from lies
Track Name: Hashtag Genocide-Feat Baba Brinkman
Verse 1, Syqnys:
Gather 'round, everyone come and see/ Strange Fruit being hung from a tree/ And white children are touching the knee/ Of a man whose children were dumped in the sea/ Generations bleed on plantations/ slave ships feed the freest of nations/ Near extinction of natives deceitful relations, bring me the blankets!/ I know my fellow heretics can relate/ To that women being burnt as a witch at the stake/ That was then this is now, this is not the fate/ Of women, unless they live in an Islamic state/ Women are slaves, you see a Muslim in America wearing a burka so you think this isn't cage?/ Your ignorance pains me, they live in their chains/ But I believe in the freedom to be resistance to change/ We got girls trying learn, men burning their face/ 'Cause they think the only thing that they should learn is their place/ A virgin gets raped, it's like she deserves the disgrace/ ‘Cause that burka protects her from his cursed embrace/ This is the worst of the worst, year I'm sure but the case/ Of genital mutilation occurs at a rate/ That'll make you irate, leave a murderous taste/ In your mouth like meat that gets served on your plate/ And I'm the pussy 'cause I am more than just bothered/ By billions of animals being tortured and slaughtered/ All so we don't have to pay a penny more than dollar/ For that hamburger when we go gorge at McDonalds/ While millions of children die of starvation/ We die of obesity in a dieting nation/ We have the technology to fly into space/ We're still dying of AIDS, and I am not saying/ We shouldn't explore space, no, I am just saying/ look at all this innovation, why are we wasting this?/ My generation's mind's on vacation/ Where stupidity is worth idolization/ We have access to near infinite information/ We're trying to find what the size of Mylee Cyrus's waist is/ Meanwhile, genocide isn't making/ The front page of any paper but I'll like it on Facebook/

Hook, Syqnys and Baba Brinkman:
Hashtag genocide, I'll like this or heart this/ I'll share this, just to show you I am not heartless/ What will be our legacy, the smiling carcass/ of a corporation lying on a pile of garbage?/ Or a pile of dollars? Buy me some nonsense/ Look at all that money can it buy you conscience?/ you’ll realize it's all been a lie and a con since/ The beginning, at the same time that the bomb hits/

Verse 2, Baba Brinkman:
Nature is a cold killer and we're a part of it/ No place for martyrs in darwinistic argument/ I'm carving at the joints, tearing into the cartilage/ digging like a wasp into the maggoty heart of it/ My offspring will eat you from the insides/ In spite of your infinite agony and never think twice/ You have more chance of persuading a fox not to slaughter chickens/ than you have a backing me down from competition/ I'm not killer but I could have been/ A man is a gladiator in a pit, once you push him in/ I might of taken a sword to a foreign nation/ in the middle ages and papered over pain with bible pages/ I’ve got a bit of Jim Jones and Dave Koresh in me/ A totalitarian streak and a sense of destiny/ A messianic complex that expresses sexually/ You’re looking kinda like a fresh conquest to me/ It boggles your mind when I try to prolong squabbles/ It’s not ‘cause I’m godless or heartless or lost marbles/ It’s just ‘cause I’ve got to conquer I wanted it, unstoppable/ optically watching you through some Genghis Khan goggles/ Why am I so insane that question is so inane/ I refrain from killing every day, I show restraint/ See what happens when you put a hundred chimps on a plane/ It’s the peaceful side of people that’s the trick to explain/ And yeah, I’ve done some animals in, took some mammals down/ Jeffery Dahmer I’m the water killer of salmon and trout/ Hunting for adrenaline, you can call it murdering/ I call it protein go picket in front of Burger King/ My ancestors hunted mammoths to oblivion/ And planetary mass extinction expansion is hideous/ But that’s why I’m living instead of dead as Denisovan/ My branch is alive, their branch is Davidian/ I’m a latent killer descended from blatant killers/ strangely feeling peaceful no urge to rape and pillage/ My urge instead is to see a rapist caged in prison/ hang Ghangus Khan from his balls until it’s safe for women/ How did I get here? What is the cause of the change?/ Why do I turn away from it when the thought is deranged?/ I can feel the taboos and social violations/ bubbling away in my brains vile basement/ But if I embrace them, instant ostracization/ Baba Brinkman: A Man on the Brink of annihilation/ I want to change it and discard the mental rot/ And let some extra doves into my parliament of thoughts/ So lately I’m speaking out and targeting some shots/ At those that try to base ethical arguments on gods/ take a stand, you’ll find it’s kind of exciting/ But if you can’t, you’re better off on twitter writing/

Hook
Track Name: Sleeping Beauty
"No."
"Go to sleep."
"Stop."
"Go to sleep, you're so beautiful."
"Stop."

Verse I:
Blood red leaves are pillow/ Hung head, she weeps like a willow/ Love's dead, he drinks and smokes indo/ cut bled, from a piece of the window/ She hates him so much she can not control her anger/ down that psycho-path is where that path will take her/ That shard of glass kissed her wrist but not too deep she missed/ On purpose the hurt is like bliss and she needed this/ She scratched his name into her leg and then she crossed it out/ she starts to shout and hopes the loudness lets the monster out!/ He made her feel like she was special, yeah he played her/ sex is a game and he's a mother-fucking player/ she drank those drinks all by herself nobody made her/ look how she's dressed it's obvious she wants him, "Take her"/ The deed was done. He had to tell his friends/ Conquered another one, captured with a lens/ Laying like a corpse, lipstick smeared/ Laughing no remorse, kids all cheered/ So to partake in what their friend had just accomplished/ remember how she's dressed, it's obvious she wants this/ So they all just have a turn, ignoring she's unconscious/ The pleasure that they feel, overrides their conscience/

Chorus: Wont you be my Sleeping... Beauty
(Everybody has a real good time)
Wont you be my Sleeping... Beauty
(We can have a really good time)
[Repeat]

"Slut, Slut"
"Whore, Whore, Whore, Whore"
"Slut, Slut, Dirty Whore, Dirty Whore"

Verse II:
Blood red face, cause' they tease her (Dirty Whore)/Hung head, erase her delete her/ love's dead, he rapped her he cheats her/ Slut said by a gang of cheerleaders/ She hates him so much she cannot control her sadness/Down that suicide-walk is where that path is/ leading... girls keep teasing, they keep on repeating/those words "whore, slut"/ what was she thinking/he was thinking/ leading... him on with all that drinking, all that winking/He thought your s'posed to kiss the princess while she lies there sleeping ([growl], go to sleep) / Now she's special everyone has seen her pictures/She lost the game and he and all his friends are victors/They heard his story but they always seem to miss hers/She found a quite place where nobody could kick her/The deed was done (done)/ once again asleep (sleep)/hidden from everyone (one)/did he even weep (weep)/Princess is a corpse (corpse)/make-up clear (clear)/ do they feel remorse (remorse)/cheerleaders say a cheer (cheer) (slut)/So now they tell each other fictions and they lie/ they never meant to hurt her, never meant to make her cry/ they didn't know that every word they spewed made her wanna die/ they never saw that melancholy tear glisten in her eye.

Chorus: Wont you be my Sleeping... Beauty
(Everybody has a real good time)
Wont you be my Sleeping... Beauty
(We can have a really good time)
[Repeat]
[Repeat]
[Repeat]