Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Evidence Of Things Not Seen, artist - The Dynospectrum.
Date of issue: 12.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Evidence Of Things Not Seen |
Your thoughts don’t really matter |
Cause your actions don’t follow |
What you do don’t matter |
Cause you don’t see tomorrow |
I don’t know you that well |
But I know about your rep |
I had to leave the room cause you was too consumed with meth |
I salted the steps |
Now there’s no excuse for slippin' |
Put away all the toys |
Try to avoid trippin' |
Your voice is different, is it really you talkin'? |
Change the subject |
Too often I’m kickin' dialogue with puppets |
I simply wear a smile |
Play the role of dum-dum |
Mr. Nice Guy |
Mr. Lie-'bout-where-I-come-from |
Humble |
The type you either love or disrespect |
Defense mech never even perceived me as a threat |
Guilty |
But still I let the real me through once in a while |
To put a smile on the face of those that feel me |
Acknowledge this game that’s played |
Cause if you don’t, you |
And we’ll be quick to read your page |
How’d you find me? |
C’mon, you didn’t, I found you |
Used careful, strategic position to surround you |
I got skills, got steam, got heart, got team |
The true advantage is the evidence of things not seen |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
Why don’t you eyeball your info cause your motives keep crowding me |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
C’mon and eyeball your info cause your motives keep crowding me |
We set the scene Monday, vibin' on A. D |
Clearly I recollect data be percept |
Mad emotion move irate |
Irrational following |
Customer’s violation blazed the eighth just before |
A fatigue dungarees askin' questions |
About size, texture, color, packin' |
Paternal 6 inch patrol nonchalantly |
So he think but bluntly |
And actual frontin' |
My personal' is try to again and raise supporters |
In a surplus with borders |
Mega hawk in my frame with twin mirrors |
I can’t afford this |
My comfortable levels have been distorted |
My |
, a veteran of amnesia |
Seize the cranial region, fuck you I’m leavin' |
The color issue |
Overexposed plus glamorized |
Demagnetized, to enforce the iller lies |
Like «I'm not racist» but the actions |
Nice, you’re Minnesota, but it’s still about skin |
Should I (a) bomb the place, C4 from my cousin |
The aura buzzin' |
Or (b) terrorize the plumbin' |
Or saturate the surface with flyers to serve justice |
Nervous of how to hit him with truth, for street service |
I got the SKS |
Assault bless your chest, we’re mental |
A future revolu' comin' out |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
Why don’t you eyeball your info cause your motives keep crowding me |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
You don’t see if you only see what you’re allowed to see |
C’mon and eyeball your info cause your motives keep crowding me |
Patiently I’m waitin' in the brush, ready to destruct |
A hook-nosed scoundrel, slice his throat on the down-low |
I see the platoon steppin' through the marsh |
Lights only supplied by the moon and the stars |
It’s pitch dark |
Glowin' is the red of the eyes of the antagonists |
B52s and battleships |
I’m makin' |
I’m trackin' with my scanner, checkin' out my periphery |
I hope that my commander’s somewhere lookin', detectin' me |
Infrared scopes right next to me |
I drop my head to my lap and start breathin' heavily |
(Heavy breathing) |
As the steps get closer |
My limbs get colder |
I start to lose my composure |
It’s over |
That’s what I’m feelin' |
I’ve been defeated |
I’m sittin' in my own feces |
Thinkin' of defense |
The sequence runnin' through my mind at the time of the sticky situation |
Is I don’t want to taste gun shell and casings |
So I’mma do what I have to do |
I’m not a match for you |
So I won’t try to you |
Bag the tool, cause I don’t want to get my life trashed |
Call me a coward, cause I’m throwin' up the white flag |
My eyes are open, and I don’t like what I see |
My eyes are open, and I don’t like what I see |
My eyes are open, and I don’t like what I see |