Guest
Wake up to your grave it's the reminder on the clock And those fleeting bits of satisfaction, turn to afterthoughts But if you say the magic word You could crawl back on the verge And see that fire in the sky burn everything back to life You don't have to sleep to dream and, live in paradise Abracadabra, are you watching closely? Can you feel the dawn approaching? I overheard niggas saying Jay was on the verge He could make Rumsfeld resign with rhymes he never heard Commune with the birds And could manipulate matter with the usage of words Throwing dice on the curb I'm best and freshest with the written text fuck what ya heard... Winston Churchill (We shall fight on the beaches) - “The new world, with all it's power and might...“ It's the metaphysical, Dolby Digital Any Joe`ll tell you the flows so pivotal Every words literal Each diatribe is sort of like an interview, Come get a inner-view Right past the man and the myth to the mineral I was born uptown a mile from the riverview Look (uh), I'm a simple man ya understand Mastering my temple man trying to expand But when they think you simple man They'll try to play you out like you a simpleton See what I'm saying Niggas want pain not mercy I'm writing in my Moleskin on the train to Canarsie Stand clear of the closing doors The people are in constant fear of Trojan war The vehicle that's supposed to free us is just a whore I gotta call em like a see 'em Even it it means they'll sanction my per diem The angels will thank me in the streets if see 'em Saying there he go but I wouldn't wanna be him Holding up a three and reppin' for New Orleans Let us begin
