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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Go from out the gate, the Great |
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Create the styles that dwell within |
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The flow no doubt will wake you take you |
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Acres aways well within |
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The sacred space, the place |
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Where we awaken from this hell within |
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If you ain't heard about my crew |
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I guess, I have to spell it then |
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B, B is for the beat you knock |
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While puffin' on you L |
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L is for the lyrics on the beat |
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That have to gel |
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A, A is for the absolute that dwells |
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Everywhere you can't C |
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C, C, C, C, C is for creatin' |
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That is if you're in the K |
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K is for the knowin' |
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Which will bring us back to A |
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A as in another A and then another L |
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I hope you follow me, me, me, me |
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I, I as in myself, myself and me |
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C, cultivate and capture, put a cease to I |
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Ignorance 'cause ignorance must die |
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Die, die, die |
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Fly away make us free, free, free, free |
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O, O is for the oneness that is U |
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U, U, U, U, U is universal |
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Like the sound your listenin' to |
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S, essence of the spirit in the music |
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That opens up the Chi Chi Chi |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Up and down the trails |
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Of many styles we can go |
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What's in store for the future |
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Doubt that we can know |
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But in ourself we can create |
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And we can grow to be a vessel |
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For these days, days, days, days |
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Touchin' the moon and stars |
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With such a cosmic glow |
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Rushin' MC's that end up in the hospital |
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It's nothin', sometimes it's simply how it's got to go |
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That's if you suckas want to play, play, play, play |
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It's such an inebriatin' feelin' |
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To be creatin' really |
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It really makes me feel free |
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You think this ain't the real thing |
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Then you just can't be listenin' |
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To what my ears are hearin' |
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There ain't no way, way, way, way |
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Pitchin', so twisted if you're hittin' |
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Nigga, it isn't pretty, wittier inner dealings |
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All in your inner city, I'll spit it when I'm ready |
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Committed venom deadly |
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Don't make me spray, spray, spray |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Rhythm sticks, rhythm sticks, get 'em, go |
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Now, this is not your average |
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Everyday tune, it is in tune |
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With frequencies speakin' through me |
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And keep reachin' way out to you |
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Seekin' to find the triple I |
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Mastery through the rhythm sticks |
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Given to listeners rendered prisoners |
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To the mu-mu-mu-music |
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Inner centered, vessel astral planning travelers |
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Sent to this dimension here to inform the whole planet earth |
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Time is runnin' out, at any moment death it can occur |
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Celebrate the moment fully |
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This is what you have it for, avid rap fanatic |
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Magic, add it and subtract it |
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Rabid, mathematic patterns |
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That sporadic, manic anthem |
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Static, cannot have a chance |
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Enchanted random, valiant chantin' |
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And some, gallant cabbage grabbin' |
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Stackin', hammer slammin' |
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Captain, stabbin' talent lackin' |
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Yappin', slackin' |
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Rappers, smack 'em |
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Backwards, ballads |
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Tackles, actors savage at this |
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Bammer crap is damned and banished |
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Demerol lavish, fans will go bananas |
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And command some Gab |
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A master at this |
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Transcendental gatherin' |
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Of rhythm sticks |
