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Artist: Clavius Crates f/ Silas Green
Album:  Classically Trained 12"
Song:   Classically Trained
Typed by:

(Clavius Crates)
It all started with the beat of a heart within my chest
Swelling in the uterus, before I developed flesh
As soon as I was exhumed from the tomb of the womb
I fluidly crooned blues to the tune of the boom

(Silas Green)
Due to consume a bevy of heavenly melodies
Readily fed upon it like a treasured delicacy
Set to be pedigreed eventually on soul-kitchen recipes
Memories recollect record collecting obsessively

Inevitably nested in my destiny of music
I spent ev'ry second invested in reverence to it

Unit pursuant, eternally a thirst to be quenched
From Herbie to Prince, a catalog deservedly dense

The perfect defense, preventing petty flurries of stress
Introverted and blessed, I further asserted my quest
To purchase anything cold, from Britpop, bop, and soul
To reggae, funk, electronic, hip-hop, rock and roll

Copped in droves, my passion grows hot as a stove
To concoct the poems flown from the top of the dome
I was a hard-hit target of psychedelic guitar licks
Often drawn quick to Pharcyde bizarre trips

Harnessed the grooves to illuminate darkness

Always enthused from the tunes that made hearts skip

A jubilant harvest, carved in circles of wax

Burstin' with tracks of versed facts furnished in raps


My brain became a melting pot that never could fill
I found my sustenance in artists of incredible skill
And gained repetitive thrills, similar to finding pleasure in pills
From hearin' lyrics dripped from venomous quills

Cleverer still… put pen to page and make lettering spill
To give your gal trembling chills, as a gentleman will
Exiting grills, we spit it, hit the philly, and passed
Riveted by a river of Brazilian jazz

Clinically spazz, from vivid bits of vintage penmanship
That emanate with hisses caused by dusty fingerprints

Clutching in my grip a thick bin of sizzling hidden gems
Quickly spinning with the listening giving me dividends

Consider me a witty synonym for music lover
‘Cause when it come to seekin' beats, I be the truest brother

Smooth as buttered soul heated, by the time I get to Phoenix
I'm leavin' each and every crate of rarities depleted

Proceeded to reach my peak when steeped in headphone bliss
Progress dependent on the underground and best known hits
See me knee-deep in the finest brew of vibrant styles Miles blew
That's tried & true to chill a spine or two and leave you Kind of Blue

Guru creators have a master plan and a plot
To grant me the chair of a Pharaoh like Sanders or Monch
Scramblin' fonts… to rearrange pieces of flame
Heating your brain when deviant sequences seep and ingrain

Deeply insane for symphonic sonnets and flowed phonics

Mold knowledge so solid, with a stage show polished

Don't knock it when perfection is gradually gained

Gathering praise rapidly- we were classically trained!