Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song These Words, artist - Panacea. Album song Ink Is My Drink, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.10.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Moore
Song language: English
These Words |
My head seems to think like a nasty jazz song |
Feet tapped the beat that’s driven by car horns |
The trees, cheers the seats, just meeting my eyes |
Subtle sounds like the kicks inside of pregnant wives |
I’m saying it’s elementary, silent in people nation |
And you feel all the music around you making a statement |
A state when it isn’t just law and discrimination |
Where every action soldiers a part of the world you’re making |
From playgrounds with kids' laughs, to raindrops to heel that’s splash puddles, |
the waters that fizzles from jags that hit that puddle |
To the one with the breath that part you cuddle |
Life’s a circle, I stay watching, the clowns dancing, the walls are trouble |
And every struggle I transcribe with the sound |
My stimulations penetration there’s no fucking around |
I keep a crowd steady ducking for sound |
Maybe cuz I’m underground forever, summon the towns |
I’m singing all These Words to you |
To make you feel alive (one hundred times, one thousand times) |
Relax yourself, let me ease on in |
Just enjoy the ride |
Hey, you see a table but I see a new beat |
You see the words but I’m composing the peace |
Building a place, protractors know the angle I take |
Words I state may get you open like a nod when awake |
Let me splash the pieces like the quarters through the trailer park door |
Life’s a movie with no sound and I’m just writing the score |
Like a nose |
Composing a law, before the mind of human evolve |
The follow, the hollow lens that’ll seeping through pores |
Music’s my life, there’s nothing there that’ll have me a chore |
It’s casual like a smoker, I admire fire’s crackles |
Playing my record’s static as the cancer’s plays the battle |
I’m in tune with the green as far as to the grey as |
Travel in the grey like the sun when it’s afternoon |
In tune like the music that’s bouncing throughout the room |
Like butterfly cocoons the sound makes a beautiful bloom |
Its what my life is simply made of the way that I think |
The meaning behind the message, brother, Ink is My Drink |
It’s when I sit in deli, tell me, every lyric spells me |
Holds me, drops me, held me, bones cross within me simply |
It all compels me, like hair products gels me |
To water flows to wealthy, sights I can well see |
When going through my day’s plays missing all that’s important |
Fighting my way through crooks to find myself within me |
To prevent confusion I turn my sight to a sound |
Write when I lounge, if I handle luck when I’m found |
Benefit me later or now, no matter I wound |
And every morning that I wake up I begin it again |
Straight up off the top, we still drop bombs |
And every time we gotta represent straight past your block |
Just feel what’s going on, its so chill but ill |
Cats be trying to see the way we build them skills |
We seem to axe 'em, still gotta count our blessings |
And the question coming back to kill our essence |
Beyond the urkel, doesn’t matter, on time commercials |
Cats be tryin… |