Well I spark from the start
Did you ever know?
My musical collection is endless in its growth.
Billy bobs, techno-snobs, post-modernist grunge,
classical to swing, early rock, be-bop, and smoking guns,
jazz, harmonic fads, country, bluegrass, electric,
hardcore punk, funk, salsa, anything eclectic.
Music?
I think it's the essence of my soul,
a harrowing clarinet and snare drum slowly rolls.
Feel it in my body
hard to put the feeling in words,
sweeping like the tide
eardrum inside a steady surge,
if I was to arrange all my favorite tunes-
it would unfold poetic
like a flower in its bloom.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
I can see you right now
You're sittin in your room.
Your dad hates my tunes
He's from the baby boom.
But hold on a second,
it will take 5 minutes max
as I express 20 minutes of thought
in times passed.
So grab your parent, a lover, or a friend.
Let em know about the words
Encourage them to Listen.
Don't pretend
If you groove defend my stance
but don't forget to decode my scripture
like when you enhance.
Dance hard with passion
tell a kid if he's asking,
cause 8th graders won't catch it if you're kickin it passed em.
Blast em with advisory
ask why adults are trying me,
reason substance applies to all ages cause I try to be
universal.
Without corporate oligarchy in a circle,
emanate teachings in role reversal
with ensuing rehearsal.
So from hip hop heads
stuck of Low End Theory
or De La Soul Is Dead
this is my probe do you feel me?
To children tuning in thinking days are history
Tupac and Big are classics,
should you be asking me?
I'm just a student to the movement- hip hop revolution
you're in included but deluded screamin fuck institution.
music is my soul, music is my mind.
music is my freedom stuck in social confines.
So seek it, lack of tunes is a weakness
girls can get down but vibration is the deepest.
Feel it, all genres unite.
one nation, one groove, one tune, one mic
at a time
we climb instrumentally boundless,
atmosphere full of life cause the music has found us.
Music. Hold her tight never lose it
Music. It's the truth don't confuse it.
Songs. Make it right when it's wrong.
Songs. Play each day and beyond.
Life. It's reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
Mack-1o, Eric Clapton,
Talib, Stevie-Ray,
Tchaikovsky, RBL Posse,
Jobim, Marvin Gaye,
Billy Holiday, Hancock, Rolling Stones
and The Roots,
Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Bob Seger in Cowboy boots.
A wildflower passion for artistic expression
running all in tandem
overcoming the tension.
Take a ride on this wheel,
melodically connected,
never stops spinning- every soul will be affected.
Browse a record store:
extend your life for decades,
pick up on motifs-
the way the sounds are often replayed.
Feel the artist's message,
dance with their unique vision,
lyrics to communicate
transcendence & superstition.
19 years old: bold and belligerent,
yearning to discover
yet sometimes still ignorant.
Fonix and Blondehat-
add this CD to this abyss,
just another recording in this nebulous matrix.
Finding our own niche,
digging another ditch,
joining this tapestry that is
endlessly being stitched.
So to the listeners: dare I ask?
Turn your volume to the max
hypnotize you to a trance
rhyme flows delivered, tempo's fast.
one song one pen one feeling one mic
three heads chillin, listenin, somehow we all unite.
play a note, play a chord, pick a string, blow a horn.
translate your emotions to a sound, you'll feel reborn.
Music is my mind but it's also in my heart,
so let's all sing this chorus- turn our feelings into art.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
Did you ever know?
My musical collection is endless in its growth.
Billy bobs, techno-snobs, post-modernist grunge,
classical to swing, early rock, be-bop, and smoking guns,
jazz, harmonic fads, country, bluegrass, electric,
hardcore punk, funk, salsa, anything eclectic.
Music?
I think it's the essence of my soul,
a harrowing clarinet and snare drum slowly rolls.
Feel it in my body
hard to put the feeling in words,
sweeping like the tide
eardrum inside a steady surge,
if I was to arrange all my favorite tunes-
it would unfold poetic
like a flower in its bloom.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
I can see you right now
You're sittin in your room.
Your dad hates my tunes
He's from the baby boom.
But hold on a second,
it will take 5 minutes max
as I express 20 minutes of thought
in times passed.
So grab your parent, a lover, or a friend.
Let em know about the words
Encourage them to Listen.
Don't pretend
If you groove defend my stance
but don't forget to decode my scripture
like when you enhance.
Dance hard with passion
tell a kid if he's asking,
cause 8th graders won't catch it if you're kickin it passed em.
Blast em with advisory
ask why adults are trying me,
reason substance applies to all ages cause I try to be
universal.
Without corporate oligarchy in a circle,
emanate teachings in role reversal
with ensuing rehearsal.
So from hip hop heads
stuck of Low End Theory
or De La Soul Is Dead
this is my probe do you feel me?
To children tuning in thinking days are history
Tupac and Big are classics,
should you be asking me?
I'm just a student to the movement- hip hop revolution
you're in included but deluded screamin fuck institution.
music is my soul, music is my mind.
music is my freedom stuck in social confines.
So seek it, lack of tunes is a weakness
girls can get down but vibration is the deepest.
Feel it, all genres unite.
one nation, one groove, one tune, one mic
at a time
we climb instrumentally boundless,
atmosphere full of life cause the music has found us.
Music. Hold her tight never lose it
Music. It's the truth don't confuse it.
Songs. Make it right when it's wrong.
Songs. Play each day and beyond.
Life. It's reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
Mack-1o, Eric Clapton,
Talib, Stevie-Ray,
Tchaikovsky, RBL Posse,
Jobim, Marvin Gaye,
Billy Holiday, Hancock, Rolling Stones
and The Roots,
Bob Marley, Bob Dylan, Bob Seger in Cowboy boots.
A wildflower passion for artistic expression
running all in tandem
overcoming the tension.
Take a ride on this wheel,
melodically connected,
never stops spinning- every soul will be affected.
Browse a record store:
extend your life for decades,
pick up on motifs-
the way the sounds are often replayed.
Feel the artist's message,
dance with their unique vision,
lyrics to communicate
transcendence & superstition.
19 years old: bold and belligerent,
yearning to discover
yet sometimes still ignorant.
Fonix and Blondehat-
add this CD to this abyss,
just another recording in this nebulous matrix.
Finding our own niche,
digging another ditch,
joining this tapestry that is
endlessly being stitched.
So to the listeners: dare I ask?
Turn your volume to the max
hypnotize you to a trance
rhyme flows delivered, tempo's fast.
one song one pen one feeling one mic
three heads chillin, listenin, somehow we all unite.
play a note, play a chord, pick a string, blow a horn.
translate your emotions to a sound, you'll feel reborn.
Music is my mind but it's also in my heart,
so let's all sing this chorus- turn our feelings into art.
Music. sticks close never lose it
Music. reigns supreme don't abuse it.
Songs. Ephemeral perpetual bombs.
Songs. With every dusk and every dawn.
Life. Reduced to a rhythm.
Life. I think the angels are singing.
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