|
[Pressure:] |
|
I once had time on my hands, but now handling time, |
|
Is coping with this life cycle and the mandatory grind, |
|
My sanity's fine, just falling short of stamina I'm, |
|
Searching for some food for thought to feed this famine of mind, |
|
And when I'm stagnant I rhyme, it helps the night turn to day, |
|
I churn my way through this nine to five and urban decay, |
|
Believe me it's bleak, and though the city's breaths in its sleep, |
|
It's just a paddock, ain't no where a shepherds leading these sheep, |
|
Now most prefer it covered up lie than the truth naked, |
|
The truth is ugly like cellulite; please don't publicly parade it, |
|
I hate it but to escape it would be luck on fluke, |
|
I feel like I'm a dope beat but I'm stuck on loop, |
|
But that's my life cycle; freedom means everything to me, |
|
And face value's got us believing everything we see, |
|
So if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we're blind, |
|
So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
|
I once had respect for this game, but now this game of respect, |
|
Is sold to the highest bidder with some fame and a cheque, |
|
Now any layman can get respect without breaking his neck, |
|
Paying dues, time these crews started paying some debt, |
|
It ain't lights and cameras, personalities on set, |
|
Distorting realities in their context, |
|
With no originality concepts, |
|
Who gives a fuck about a salary; this ain't a popularity contest, |
|
Cos hip hop ain't faking for ends, |
|
Hip-hop ain't fading with trends, |
|
It ain't rich kids playing with pens, |
|
It ain't the clothes on your back, or the label on them, |
|
It's where you're at, so I say it again, |
|
It's just my life cycle; music means everything to me, |
|
It's just a fashion show, nah; don't believe everything you see, |
|
Cos if our eyes tell us lies the truth is we're blind, |
|
So keep on walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
|
That's just my life cycle, nothing matters but setting me free, |
|
Because my freedom and hip hop be meaning everything to me, |
|
Now face values and fashions empower everything we be, |
|
Believing everything we hear, and everything we see, |
|
So if our eyes tell us lies, then we usually find, |
|
Our visions cluttered by this scutter so the truth is we're blind, |
|
It's just poison food for thought for these dillusionary minds, |
|
So stop walking straight and narrow down illusionary lines. |
