Lyrics:
was on the streets, you was at home on your computer
I'ma shoot a dis well like a fist to all these wack groups
Rhymes are wack as hell! And they
to lie
I know I'm right but hoping I'm wrong
Senses so unclear
Don't know what's going on
Holding on
Having faith
That this won't be my swan song
Looking
of glass as you pass the mic, on to the future plight of the right
Clenched fists, teeth grit, drenched with
The spit of a group of bigoted elephants,
to his essence
He's really quite impressing
At times I tagged along with his main group of friends
When they weren't trying to ditch me I almost fit in
you whip the wrist
Fucking up them pots and pans
You stand beside your man like you belong with your man
Me and you we a group but we one deep
Me
special someone to share
The little love that I have left
In my heart 'cos my life ain't got a spare
And time is of the essence
I need someone to add
that Rock The Casbah was used by the americans during The Gulf War
That's ironic, you never know how things will end
I've always liked the group, I've
on the throne my presence is like a golden essence
I mention
This is called creation
I'm workin for perfection
An evolution revolution
The ultimate lesson
full of sin?
Truth or fib, yeah truth or fib
It's written in the cosmos you can't fake a list
Time is of the essence you must savor it
No moment goes
fee
To have our data kept on file for an earthly eternity
And who knows if those reports even reflect reality
Like our essence is some geo-genetic
For this mind altering occasion
Splitting from my face and
My whole body essence in tow
Now I'm tore between factuality
And a side of me that wants
grew
But they’ll never sap the essence
From a flower like you
Once upon a sci-fi plot
Shocked by the prospect of lying in a
Pine box we saw the sky drop
scooped up by this roughneck from Cuba?
We do maneuvers like Super Dave, always with a group of babes
Sayin "Mami's out" like Sugar Ray
Cause Cuban Link
Ringin' smooth in all the listener's ears
Fulfillin' the needs and plantin' the seeds of a jazz thing
King Oliver's group was a train comin' through
for seven years
I hate this place
I'm starting to adjust
Holding my dick to escape the lust
Till' these girls in group, explain their rapes
just holding your space
You were the phonograph; I was a kid
I sat with an ear close, just listening in
I Stare at the rain, tapped away down your face
should have seen what went on, man
If you would have had
Your tape recorder there
You would have been rolling on the ground
Holding your sides it
Was
It's so hard for me to focus
Cause I've noticed
[Chorus]
Something about your presence that's enticing
Something about your essence I'm admiring
When
you can't sleep, it's half three, and you're still up
Get on the group text, bounce your ex
'Cause I messed it up
Heard you moved on, well that's
peaceful Muslims
So they can switch back and forth
But you must look at organisations like CAIR
Council on American-Islamic Relations this is
A group that
A million men with expired sex packets of adolescence
Back to the essence, (back to the grindstone)
A world went through earthlings, a traveling cyclone
was on the streets, you was at home on your computer
I'ma shoot a dis well like a fist to all these wack groups
Rhymes are wack as hell! And they
I got to
Because from a jail cell I can't rock you
That's being incarcerated, meaning locked up
(A tool) a tool for holding water is a cup or pail,
hidden agendas & that bothers my essence
But I just peep & move accordingly don’t let the shit stress me
They’ll turn coat right in front you if you pay
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