| Mickle mingey BPM
|
| Slow blends is my friends
|
| We transcends till when
|
| We grooves with no end
|
| Intense like sun-rays
|
| Scorching down hard
|
| Some next types of charge
|
| Is at large
|
| I sight the Devil
|
| In all forms of trait
|
| Fusing up the friction
|
| Stirring up the hate
|
| My Gosh!
|
| I disagree, I never saw
|
| Just a skin-war
|
| I see oppressed against oppression
|
| But this mode’s oppression
|
| Is dressed with many guise
|
| To side-step their sights
|
| I feel with inner eyes
|
| Watch them paro cats, them
|
| Now I dictate to friend:
|
| Dem a spee, they just don’t see that
|
| Friction in waiting
|
| Be the dislocation
|
| In this limb that could be mighty, moving tight
|
| I guess I’m a romantic
|
| My plan is to defy
|
| The nature of an eye
|
| That’s bent on me and mine
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| I grooves on with the pureness
|
| I grace with the breeze
|
| Could not give a damn
|
| If a damn be to sleaze
|
| I be just swinging this heartfelt profound
|
| Get getting down
|
| Though fools might shun my sound
|
| I proceed with procedures well
|
| Container in my hand and I’m heading to the well
|
| I bring views for the masses to share
|
| I fights down greed 'cos there’s heaps here to spare
|
| But, back in the days
|
| I were full of bitterness
|
| Seen the next man’s gain
|
| I was green and full of stress
|
| Got to get me mine so I could mangle with my worth
|
| If death be the tool, then cats hit the earth
|
| Gracious Lord!
|
| Be feels to shame
|
| Proud for the change
|
| Now I gets kilogram gain
|
| (A basic procedure
|
| How I heed ya
|
| Alrighty
|
| Okay.)
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| Indeed —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| I’m extending my hand to the everyday folk
|
| Trying to slip from the grip of a living-dead float
|
| The glimmity-glam — I’ve got 'nuff of them fooled
|
| By the way I open up and prepare to be schooled
|
| Trekking through the cess-pit
|
| I sharps up my wit
|
| Numbing to the pressure of an ego-trip
|
| I’m making slick with mad energy
|
| And mad magnitude
|
| Wha gwan with snakes
|
| I’m yet to be clued
|
| What holds me so close to these deep sides of mine
|
| Pre-occupation with this rootique refine
|
| I know not
|
| But good God, she eats out my skin
|
| The nature of a deep side
|
| That lies deep within
|
| Ever be sourcing to inspire
|
| See me like rain to a wild bush-fire
|
| Rootique refine
|
| Is the spine of my joint
|
| Thy heartless have got to catch cuff to the groin
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| Indeed —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing with some next type of motion
|
| For real —
|
| It’s with some next type of motion
|
| Steady flexing
|
| With some next
|
| Types
|
| Of motion
|
| Know the notion
|
| We smooth like baby dancing lotion
|
| Oh God!
|
| Strings!
|
| Trill!
|
| Legato!
|
| Oh right
|
| Oh right |