Tis the seasons, find something to believe in,
Everyday new grieving,
Hard to be on the receiving in,
Money is the ultimate ambition x2
Manifested knowledge, without putting work through college,
Check my collage, philosophy of agony, y'all probably,
Ain't really feeling me, cuz my bars ain't about gun bars,
I'm all about ours, self respect over the tech, position my intellect,
Universal mind control, I sealed my soul, got more soul than Satchmo,
As the horns blow, melodies bleeding from
Heavens symphony,
Hell ain't too far behind, I been a pinhead since I was breed,
Into this unit of flesh, this is just a test, so how can I manifest,
Ingest the hungers of pain, in my brain on the edge of the insane,
Melanin seeds, yes indeed, I only put positive thoughts,
To intrigue the souls of people, yo
I give em what they need,
Backed off reality, took a look at my own
Autobiography,
Paper and pen, I write it properly, locked into
This earths prison property,
And I still shed, tears from my baby, though she long away and gone,
I still vibe off that old song, dancing and everyday romancing,
At night, I peep the stars glistening, close my mind to listen,
Deep within, I see the spoils of sins, can't break the imminent vision,
Of prophecies, written on a scroll, my soul feels of the old, rock and roll,
This is the wake up show, wear we seize hate and let the love grow, Yo
Gazing off into space, tryna find a pace
In this everyday rat race,
But that ain't the case, folks love to stick ya
Like paste then waste,
Ya feelings onto the streets, my soul can't even speak no more,
Wonder why we at war, with each other for, either rich or poor,
I sit on the surface core, to explore, new life of meaning in between,
No hate can intervene and, peeling,
Back the layers of time,
Still gotta get mines, no time to let chaos
In my mind, as I grind,
New version of sunshine, no lights flickering
From one time,
Or brothers to drops gems on a dime, still got hopes in mankind,
If we just peeped, the seven signs, cities of many golden hills,
Sway from the shills, and the government wheels, that roll on,
Like the band that plays on,
Different dance new beat, that you can hum along, the weak or strong,
Still feel the high off the seventies strung, and all madness that rung,
Fifty years later, still ain't feeling greater, seems more evil caters,
To good men no pretend, still stuck on false
Dividends,
Lyrical contortionist, the arsonist, hard for y'all to part from this,
Digest this feel, in ya soul like soul food, laying out smooth grooves,
Tis the seasons, find something to believe in,
Everyday new grieving,
Hard to be on the receiving in,
Money is the ultimate ambition x2
