| Individual stars float in an ocean of God
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| Rocking a pinky ring of Saturn while I’m visiting Mars
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| Egos bigger than Jupiter are breaking the bars
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| Holding me back down to Earth through physical laws
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| Touching the moon, grace as I ready resume
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| Comets flying through space, bringing possible doom
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| Blocking the Sun, bring a holocaust on the world
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| I’m talking back to Father Time, Mother Earth is my girl
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| I got the wings of angels walking down the valley of death
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| Watching my step ‘cause The Devil’s never one to respect
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| Come correct on the studio track, taking it back
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| To the pen and pad, I blast the original rap
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| Brother on the b-boy tip
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| With Krylon spit, I tag the charts with the graphical hits
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| So who you fucking with? |
| Arm, leg, leg to arm, head
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| Snapping your neck back while you spit out a Pez
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| I be the original son of a bitch, hurting your wrist
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| ‘Cause you spinning my shit so much the needle skip
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| Flip to the rhythm and reminisce
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| Remember the days of '94—hip hop was a gift (OK)
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| Words out of her lips came straight from the heart
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| Never prepackaged or bought for negative thought
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| Peddled to consumers, magazines, and rumors
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| Commercial spots turn real artists to looters
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| Precise rap, rock and roll; |
| Nigga, let’s do this
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| I’ll float through notes, break beats with my maneuvers
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| Yo, regardless, while I be moving swiftly through darkness
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| Plotting, charting my path, I’m running, cutting my losses
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| Stumbling over unknown bumps and complications
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| And tribulations of my life of revelations
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| Speaking to Scorpius making my heart turn to porcelain
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| It used to have a steady beat, now it’s easily broken
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| Mind coasting, train of thought stopped emotions
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| Welling at the core of my being, causing commotion
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| Need to release ‘cause the stress’ll tear me to pieces
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| My love ceases and my thoughts break into leases
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| The height of my life, but the strife making me leave this
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| I can’t beat this, going to God to defeat this
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| Will He help or do I have to do this myself?
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| Alone and confused, the blues burden my health
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| My eyes remain closed ‘cause my highs are lows
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| I’m feeling the blows of rain ‘cause my pain is cold
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| Now who am I? |
| A man, or pawn in life?
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| Living day to day, I pray—am I wrong or right?
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| Losing my mind, so maybe you can help me find
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| The way to go so I can be leaving this pain behind
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| Trying to sleep; |
| «Sleep is the cousin of death»
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| Said a wise man from Queensbridge on beats he blessed (Yeah)
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| Trying to rest; |
| Instead, I rest my head
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| On a pillow of hardships—misery is the bed
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| On my back, I lie. |
| I can see the skies
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| Through the glass ceiling, the reason tears drowning my eyes
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| And I can’t move; |
| grief won’t let me think
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| My soul is dry, I crawl just to take a drink
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| I made you blink, think like invisible man
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| With mechanical hands, trying to reach out to my fans
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| Yo, regardless, while I be moving swiftly through darkness
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| Plotting, charting my path, I’m running, cutting my losses
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| Stumbling over unknown bumps and complications
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| And tribulations of my life of revelations
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| Yo, viscosity of the hidden meaning between my words
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| Thicken the plot—I got hidden rhythms and verse
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| I’m loading a hearse; |
| you biting like a Dracula curse
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| I’m bringing the worst of hurt like a sermon in church
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| Pertaining to you, hurts just to listen to truth
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| So you’d rather listen to lies, so you’re living to lose
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| I’m beginning to win, young man mastering sin
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| Battle within, looking at The Devil and grin
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| I’m flipping the script, walking on a journey and trip
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| On the gurney and missed at the fact that life is a bitch
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| And I’m hating this shit, losing Blood, making me Crip
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| The stakes is high—bet and I lost the grip
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| Searching for bliss with the razor over my wrist
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| Needing a job, but the drug test’s checking my piss
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| I’m looking through a window and seeing Immaculate Conception
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| Reborn, piercing my core with seven swords
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| A knight in a war, looking to the eyes of the lord
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| Calculating, want more, seeing the signs of heaven nevermore
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| The last matador riding a pale horse
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| Losing my course, splitting the hairs, causing divorce
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| Marriage unborn, I havoc in song, I stumbled upon
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| Lost jewels of thought thought to be gone
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| Lost forever, I sever motherfuckers with letters
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| Written in script, forward to the rap that I rip
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| From the top of the lip, make a drink, taking a sip
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| Then I’m gulping the shit, falling deeper in the abyss |