Sickness
I take this sickness and turn it into sick shit
I take my sickness and turn it into sick spit
that ill shit
my mind was in need of nurturing tired and worn down this ground shift in my stance a chance to turn it around
when the body reeks havoc a speech of sheer madness could turn into a death trap so run past it
I'm gunnin' runnin' for the door to exit a point in time, whatever you call a stand still in a book of rhymes
I call it life man you should choose the right plan, I'll live a life span in front if mic stands
so If I don't keep a level mind an unhealthy state of rhymes could lead to rebel lies to self
off the shelf, I wipe the dust from my mind's pages empty spaces I fill in with pencil drawn faces
to document the different moods and occurrences they hint to me these pictures move where assurance lives
so I draw the nourishment fruits of the purest shit and keep the styles up to date and keep moving it
made a few trips, through where the truth lives back to the roots an old dog learning old tricks
new bits and pieces to fuel the heeling process I only hear the word of others void the lost message
I stay zoned locked up inside my koo koo's nest but never slip up when doing what I do best
smooth rhythmically script writer speaking in code wizardry meaning a flow blizzard breeze winds in simplicity
then transmit it over drums and bass lines spit it for a minute you get it it's too late I'm climbing up this ladder
leaving behind what isn't needed I take a breather, crank the speakers let the pen bleed it out
over pages, blank sheets, the canvas is never out-dated I create what's passionate
turning these, otherwise routine, thoughts that visualize painting pictures like tableaus on infinite skies
chillin' on cloud nine while filling on proud wine a state of drunkenness pumpin' this with a loud mind
I get inside the beat and rip it from the heart of it keeping the blood boiling through your veins like an arsonists