| My head seems to think like a nasty jazz song
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| Feet tapped the beat that’s driven by car horns
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| The trees, cheers the seats, just meeting my eyes
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| Subtle sounds like the kicks inside of pregnant wives
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| I’m saying it’s elementary, silent in people nation
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| And you feel all the music around you making a statement
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| A state when it isn’t just law and discrimination
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| Where every action soldiers a part of the world you’re making
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| From playgrounds with kids' laughs, to raindrops to heel that’s splash puddles,
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| the waters that fizzles from jags that hit that puddle
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| To the one with the breath that part you cuddle
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| Life’s a circle, I stay watching, the clowns dancing, the walls are trouble
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| And every struggle I transcribe with the sound
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| My stimulations penetration there’s no fucking around
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| I keep a crowd steady ducking for sound
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| Maybe cuz I’m underground forever, summon the towns
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| I’m singing all These Words to you
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| To make you feel alive (one hundred times, one thousand times)
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| Relax yourself, let me ease on in
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| Just enjoy the ride
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| Hey, you see a table but I see a new beat
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| You see the words but I’m composing the peace
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| Building a place, protractors know the angle I take
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| Words I state may get you open like a nod when awake
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| Let me splash the pieces like the quarters through the trailer park door
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| Life’s a movie with no sound and I’m just writing the score
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| Like a nose
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| Composing a law, before the mind of human evolve
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| The follow, the hollow lens that’ll seeping through pores
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| Music’s my life, there’s nothing there that’ll have me a chore
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| It’s casual like a smoker, I admire fire’s crackles
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| Playing my record’s static as the cancer’s plays the battle
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| I’m in tune with the green as far as to the grey as
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| Travel in the grey like the sun when it’s afternoon
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| In tune like the music that’s bouncing throughout the room
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| Like butterfly cocoons the sound makes a beautiful bloom
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| Its what my life is simply made of the way that I think
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| The meaning behind the message, brother, Ink is My Drink
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| It’s when I sit in deli, tell me, every lyric spells me
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| Holds me, drops me, held me, bones cross within me simply
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| It all compels me, like hair products gels me
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| To water flows to wealthy, sights I can well see
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| When going through my day’s plays missing all that’s important
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| Fighting my way through crooks to find myself within me
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| To prevent confusion I turn my sight to a sound
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| Write when I lounge, if I handle luck when I’m found
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| Benefit me later or now, no matter I wound
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| And every morning that I wake up I begin it again
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| Straight up off the top, we still drop bombs
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| And every time we gotta represent straight past your block
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| Just feel what’s going on, its so chill but ill
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| Cats be trying to see the way we build them skills
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| We seem to axe 'em, still gotta count our blessings
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| And the question coming back to kill our essence
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| Beyond the urkel, doesn’t matter, on time commercials
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| Cats be tryin… |