| Hi, I’m a listener and I’m all ears
|
| I’ve been spoke down to for years
|
| With words designed to cause tears, but they don’t
|
| Hey, I’m a whisperer and I soak in jeers
|
| Been forced to face my fears
|
| With accusations of wasted years, but I’ll float
|
| Cuz hey, I’m a helpless dreamer with a gift to hear
|
| And a curse to expose what’s going on here
|
| Trapped against my will in a world that’s weird, with no hope
|
| For real I am a listener and here’s a little FYI…
|
| Manchild smashes the track with the passion of ten men
|
| On some Wizard of Oz type telepathic magic as we blend in
|
| Send trends packing, intercepted at the entrance
|
| Descended from a long line of penitential strong minds
|
| Designed for the long haul. |
| Surprised we got this far?
|
| You paid dues? |
| Me too, I charged mine on my credit card
|
| So if with every car that passes, you scream, «I Got To Have It»
|
| Think of an honest face who contemplates throwing himself into traffic
|
| And grab for the tangible, beyond average with your lives
|
| Why?, it worked for me and mine, DS5, F.Y.I
|
| Yo I’m out of my mind some say out of my kind
|
| Blind to the beckon of the flesh during the grind
|
| Blind to the hatred that I’ve stored up in my mind
|
| Blind to the taste of cheap vinegar wine
|
| Cuz I’m inclined share time, take a sip from the cup of Christ’s suffering
|
| Sivion shines Lumens plus this beat’s Dusting them
|
| Hustling souls for the Harvest like wheat
|
| Those that were the coldest are now closest to the Heat
|
| It’s all about intent son tell me what your aim is
|
| Lost Step Deepspace 5 saying…
|
| Bang this dangerous masterpiece
|
| And let the crowd repeat the technique that I speak
|
| I’m letting each come get a piece son of the least one
|
| Expected to rock mics for the kingdom
|
| You know how we done, hold your ear drum for ransom
|
| take your soul like I’m Shang Tsung
|
| For your inspiration prescribe this
|
| Fine lyricists with the gab that’s gifted
|
| Keep my hands lifted, through the sands sifted
|
| Try to catch the phrase but you missed it
|
| Yo, written and listed, deep in the ranks my data banks
|
| Read thanks for providing the stretching of gas tanks
|
| For the push talking to the bush that flamed He’s been the same
|
| Since He pre-ordained the first thought I entertained
|
| Before the ink stained sheets hanged
|
| Drying in the mainframe of brain counting the rain
|
| Let it be symbolic to frolic thru every bar
|
| Drying in the sun ray, chasingone way
|
| While gun play speech that some say reach, and inspire
|
| I look to higher flows dipped in bleach
|
| Still ill, still tripping in
|
| Still skill, still with
|
| Labklik
|
| Still your reason for wanting to rap
|
| Still the mc you wish would come back
|
| Still making tapes. |
| Still digging thru crates
|
| Still dissing wack MCs, still doing whatever it takes
|
| Still spitting paragraphs with hidden meanings
|
| And ill’s still dreaming, still a beat fiend and…
|
| Still collecting information. |
| Still climbing constellations
|
| Still in the lab, still coercing beat combinations
|
| Still steady doing it for your inspiration
|
| A-yo I stapled the Appalachian pattern
|
| Made the maple leaf creep as she climbs the limb ladder
|
| Carved a cavern out of chaos filled with little lanterns
|
| Called it space and with my fingers traced my face across the fabric
|
| The magic I had made inspired all that followed after
|
| I’m God who scatters notes that resonate through starry rafters
|
| I made the cripple skip around the block and back again
|
| I made the dumb to whistle to the beat of his own adrenaline
|
| My blood and body broke like bread to see you through
|
| I did it just for you, I did it just for you
|
| Well I question most thoughts that peruse my three pounds
|
| Universe to stay molded with the shape I was called to hold
|
| Sold with the highest dues paid
|
| Cuz we chose to blessed with this curse in His name
|
| So rebuild with the mic
|
| His words give you what you need
|
| And I’m a blood donor squeezing the pen until it bleeds
|
| And I’m a soldier, repping everything I believe
|
| Wear it on my sleeve and replace Fendi and Gucci
|
| Deepspace 5, the point man holds 'em off
|
| From the 5−1-8, Albany New York |