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Epiphany Part One

from In The Trunk by Laid Back Music

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part one in a series

lyrics

chill the ill poet:

*i got the mind of genius, face of a child
*i talk about space, you can hate, it's my style
*sometimes its a waste to rake leaves in a pile if the wind will displace the trace of your denial that the wind and its grace sweep across the earth, replace all your work and the symbols of your worth
*think about this and smile cause it paves the way for birth of all that you see
*its a blessing not a curse
*the one addressing's not the first to say this, just the latest, so none erase this
*plus the beat's the greatest, i doubt they can fade this
*remain so strange, for me, that's the basics
*that's the method
*tell your set to come corrected when you hear the one respected for leaving you connected to the source of the force that guides our course and had directed all of since unto this world we were projected
*we were left with hope, fears and worries
*when our eyesight was brand new, it was all blurry
*couldn't make sense of this world in a hurry
*everyone buzzing 'round, to and fro they all scurry, putting shovels in the dirt, digging rocks, "call it jewelry", causing war, causing hurt, causing pain truly, telling jokes, driving cars, blowing smoke
*beauty is everywhere but its hard to find usually cause we often below skies that's grey and moody, forget the clouds obscure the light that does its duty of shining bright, so plants get bigger
*when i'm rhyming tight i make your whole set shiver
*man, my mind is bright i wish i knew this quicker
*glad i know it now because it made my flow sicker
*now, i'm a crush em with the words i deliver
*so wild with the style flow like the nile river, or like solar wind
*the kid far out
*take a breath and hold it in
*now let it go
*sending peace to the o, out in mexico
*whoa - you know the kid almost fainted looking back at this fat rap i just painted
*even if i die, not fly, but most hated, i was true in this rap and you cats can't debate it

*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile
*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile
*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile if the wind will displace the trace of your denial
*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile
*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile
*sometimes it's a waste to rake leaves in a pile if the wind will displace the trace of your denial

credits

from In The Trunk, released April 2, 2011
Chill The Ill Poet
Produced by Mister Jay

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