Motion & Movement Lyrics
| Song | Motion & Movement |
| Artist | Blue Scholars |
| Album | Blue Scholars |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Geologic | |
| One, gets on stage | |
| Two, grab the mic | |
| Three, dazzle and display | |
| (Like this) | |
| It's been long years gone since we rocked the linoleum | |
| Blastin' the broken boom box open 'n' closin' it | |
| In the most awkward b-boy stance you can imagine | |
| Grab the mic traded my backspin for rappin' | |
| Back when listeners danced | |
| Dancers were listeners answers to caller response chance ridiculous | |
| Pants demanded saggin' never bigger than our britches | |
| But the bridges burn, bitches were scraps | |
| Our sins were repented for, much later, | |
| Ayo, DJ bless the crowd with the sign of the crossfader | |
| In time we find ways to refine the mind at the same time the heart articulating rhyme | |
| I think it's amazing kids are waiting outside | |
| Habitual leaders at the solidarity of this ritual see | |
| Each individual reach out | |
| Speak to teach the invisible how to be invincible | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect's blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a self-revolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what's your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect's blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a self-revolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what's your solution? | |
| (haha, haha) | |
| This be the sum of love plus one | |
| Mold breakin', soul searchin' | |
| My carriage is my feet on point and hella deep like sea urchins | |
| Indeed be certain, proceed to test your reflex like knee jerkin' | |
| Hidden behind a curtain on the stage, burnin' inside with rage | |
| Rewrote the script with my voice inside of the page | |
| I've decided the ways previously paved for me to walk will never see me nor my footprints | |
| I stalk in the night time of I and I hands to the sky like the clock at midnight, convinced of my demise | |
| Concluded that the crowd throws their hands in the air because the sky is falling and no one else seems to care | |
| I want a piece of the pie, not a generous share | |
| Can I possibly prove that my intentions are bare? | |
| I'm just a word in the rhyme | |
| And a kick in the snare | |
| swimming in inkwells to find if my spirit is there | |
| But you can find me inside of a pen, waiting to burst | |
| drowning in a reservoir, quenching my thirst | |
| My first love, second home was my headphones | |
| First time I wrote what I felt because I said so, | |
| So unless there's any protests allow me to begin | |
| The well is never deep enough to wash away the sins. | |
| So I drop it on the one, my tongue be the drum. | |
| Beating meaning to the beat to defeat what we've become | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect's blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a self-revolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what's your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect's blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a self-revolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what's your solution? |
| zuo qu : Geologic | |
| One, gets on stage | |
| Two, grab the mic | |
| Three, dazzle and display | |
| Like this | |
| It' s been long years gone since we rocked the linoleum | |
| Blastin' the broken boom box open ' n' closin' it | |
| In the most awkward bboy stance you can imagine | |
| Grab the mic traded my backspin for rappin' | |
| Back when listeners danced | |
| Dancers were listeners answers to caller response chance ridiculous | |
| Pants demanded saggin' never bigger than our britches | |
| But the bridges burn, bitches were scraps | |
| Our sins were repented for, much later, | |
| Ayo, DJ bless the crowd with the sign of the crossfader | |
| In time we find ways to refine the mind at the same time the heart articulating rhyme | |
| I think it' s amazing kids are waiting outside | |
| Habitual leaders at the solidarity of this ritual see | |
| Each individual reach out | |
| Speak to teach the invisible how to be invincible | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| haha, haha | |
| This be the sum of love plus one | |
| Mold breakin', soul searchin' | |
| My carriage is my feet on point and hella deep like sea urchins | |
| Indeed be certain, proceed to test your reflex like knee jerkin' | |
| Hidden behind a curtain on the stage, burnin' inside with rage | |
| Rewrote the script with my voice inside of the page | |
| I' ve decided the ways previously paved for me to walk will never see me nor my footprints | |
| I stalk in the night time of I and I hands to the sky like the clock at midnight, convinced of my demise | |
| Concluded that the crowd throws their hands in the air because the sky is falling and no one else seems to care | |
| I want a piece of the pie, not a generous share | |
| Can I possibly prove that my intentions are bare? | |
| I' m just a word in the rhyme | |
| And a kick in the snare | |
| swimming in inkwells to find if my spirit is there | |
| But you can find me inside of a pen, waiting to burst | |
| drowning in a reservoir, quenching my thirst | |
| My first love, second home was my headphones | |
| First time I wrote what I felt because I said so, | |
| So unless there' s any protests allow me to begin | |
| The well is never deep enough to wash away the sins. | |
| So I drop it on the one, my tongue be the drum. | |
| Beating meaning to the beat to defeat what we' ve become | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? |
| zuò qǔ : Geologic | |
| One, gets on stage | |
| Two, grab the mic | |
| Three, dazzle and display | |
| Like this | |
| It' s been long years gone since we rocked the linoleum | |
| Blastin' the broken boom box open ' n' closin' it | |
| In the most awkward bboy stance you can imagine | |
| Grab the mic traded my backspin for rappin' | |
| Back when listeners danced | |
| Dancers were listeners answers to caller response chance ridiculous | |
| Pants demanded saggin' never bigger than our britches | |
| But the bridges burn, bitches were scraps | |
| Our sins were repented for, much later, | |
| Ayo, DJ bless the crowd with the sign of the crossfader | |
| In time we find ways to refine the mind at the same time the heart articulating rhyme | |
| I think it' s amazing kids are waiting outside | |
| Habitual leaders at the solidarity of this ritual see | |
| Each individual reach out | |
| Speak to teach the invisible how to be invincible | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| haha, haha | |
| This be the sum of love plus one | |
| Mold breakin', soul searchin' | |
| My carriage is my feet on point and hella deep like sea urchins | |
| Indeed be certain, proceed to test your reflex like knee jerkin' | |
| Hidden behind a curtain on the stage, burnin' inside with rage | |
| Rewrote the script with my voice inside of the page | |
| I' ve decided the ways previously paved for me to walk will never see me nor my footprints | |
| I stalk in the night time of I and I hands to the sky like the clock at midnight, convinced of my demise | |
| Concluded that the crowd throws their hands in the air because the sky is falling and no one else seems to care | |
| I want a piece of the pie, not a generous share | |
| Can I possibly prove that my intentions are bare? | |
| I' m just a word in the rhyme | |
| And a kick in the snare | |
| swimming in inkwells to find if my spirit is there | |
| But you can find me inside of a pen, waiting to burst | |
| drowning in a reservoir, quenching my thirst | |
| My first love, second home was my headphones | |
| First time I wrote what I felt because I said so, | |
| So unless there' s any protests allow me to begin | |
| The well is never deep enough to wash away the sins. | |
| So I drop it on the one, my tongue be the drum. | |
| Beating meaning to the beat to defeat what we' ve become | |
| With motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? | |
| Motion movement, | |
| architect' s blueprint, | |
| showing, provin', | |
| teachers, students | |
| Reachin' for truth in a selfrevolution | |
| The roof is on fire, what' s your solution? |
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