| I see 'em, I see 'em
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| You don’t see 'em?
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| For real?
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| Look around, son
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| Look around, son
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| Take a trip, I got you floating on this real spit
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| I rock the boat so much you get nauseous and start to feel sick
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| Too many house niggas, I’m taking them on a field trip
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| You fail to see it, I like to come with a kill switch
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| My wife said I got demons I’ve yet to deal with
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| But I ain’t trying to hear though, my music is my mirror though
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| They like to put me on a pedestal for conscious rap
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| My flesh is edible, it’s hard to keep the monsters back
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| The polar opposite of too emotional
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| Got feelings and emotions, just hoping I don’t overdose
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| And miss the moments trying to control them til I won’t overlord
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| Hard to handle me, get dismantled and now I’m home alone
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| I power trip like I’m sampling Hubert Laws no more
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| I got honor, face my karma like a Buddhist law
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| I got my own demons, what I’m supposed to do with yours?
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| I got my own demons, what I’m supposed to do with yours?
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| Too many demons in the dance hall
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| And they stomping on what you stand for
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| Dorothy Parker in the tub with her pants on
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| Ready for a night at the opera with the phantom
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| They live in the shadows of the angels
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| The punchlines of the rap battles to entertain you
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| Poof, the evil words can maim you
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| Poof, the evil words can maim you
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| Demons want a pound of my flesh, it’s quite accurate
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| It’s tragic when you feel like your lawyer the devil advocate
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| Legal-ese isn’t a language, they made it up
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| No wonder I’m losing blood, everybody taking a cut
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| Speaking of tongues, quit depicting your funds
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| Beating the drums of war to fry lines to your unfortunate sons
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| You think boys point guns when they run to the sun?
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| A decoy, Pink Floyd, cause they’re comfortably numb
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| Word, wrapping ourselves in denial like it’s a warm blanket
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| Trying to go native like faces that get war painted
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| Pac shot in Las Vegas of all places
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| Fighting dark sides of the force like he was Lord Vader
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| Y’all haters develop to lead the role
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| When they start to give them hearts in your life and feed the trolls
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| I got my own demons, what I’m supposed to do with yours?
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| I got my own demons, what I’m supposed to do with yours?
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| This feel like church, save that soul
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| That cry «good God, oh me, oh my!»
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| I got to save them all
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| Pray the Lord forever call on them
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| For saying the scream, for evil things that’s letting me ball on them
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| Pick a move, or you could die, nigga
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| Chuck and jive to stay alive, nigga
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| Propane flames burn your boots like strange perms
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| Some think «Don't take, will»
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| But fuck it, you live and learn
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| Beware of the roots and salty looks
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| Voodoo they put on you, baby doll could leave you shook
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| Pens and needles, hoes and blokes
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| When it cracking, come snapping out even, kept them feelings afloat
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| I know cause my folks lost souls off coast, never found
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| The triangle ain’t just an ocean, it’s on the rise
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| Take heed of the sign, dodging demons that give us
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| Young Krizzle |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Demonology , by - Talib Kweli. Song from the album Gravitas, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп