| Song | Burnt Offering |
| Artist | Blue Scholars |
| Album | Blue Scholars |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Geologic | |
| (I don't know what to write… Oh well - Yo) | |
| I offer nothing but the uncertain promise | |
| That I'll honestly pursue the crooked path of the conscious | |
| Not just another body in the battle for the soul | |
| Never sold self for its weight in platinum and gold but | |
| Man we're getting grown | |
| Wisdom got us thinking in the interest of our children even if they ain't been given their flesh | |
| Their bones | |
| Their homes or their names yet | |
| I'm aiming for the change in my pocket for the payback | |
| The change not mentioned by the government or nothing | |
| The change of a whirlwind unraveling the coming of that next shit | |
| I can't wait but when it comes, shit | |
| It better be worth the shit that I paid most my life with | |
| It's nice when it rains sometime | |
| Cleansing minds in my habitat | |
| Imagine that I'm digging to find | |
| What was hidden by the myth of a god up in the sky | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I'm dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights | |
| Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Way back I used to call upon the Father often | |
| I fought the devil last night and almost lost – | |
| Now I'm drinking bottled water | |
| Flushing out the toxins | |
| Vomiting and coughing feeling closer to the coffin | |
| Than I ever had | |
| Every morning that I arrive | |
| Is a night that I survive | |
| Just to be alive – sipping chai | |
| Listening to my favorite DJ | |
| Communicate the music, what my rhymes would say | |
| If they were written | |
| With a needle | |
| To the groove | |
| Of a paper | |
| Stylus to papyrus, | |
| record to the player | |
| It's more than just therapy or excessive energy | |
| I undo the mechanism meant to imprison me | |
| Spiritually, the view from up is not enough | |
| I dwell below to find the god that I rebuff | |
| Redesigned, redefined what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I'm dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Our Father | |
| my art is Heaven, hallowed be | |
| The drums beating me and my tongue into submission | |
| I can hardly speak breathing this indelible high | |
| From an endless supply of Godspeed, and I need | |
| A brand new prayer to read | |
| Seems the old ones grew tons of mold cuz they're narrow as hell | |
| Sometimes they be thinking that this heavens for sale | |
| Worse than that, they still think God is a male | |
| But | |
| Moms used to hang up pictures of white Jesus | |
| Fist clutching rosary beads, over the years | |
| I began to question this Father Almighty | |
| Made in His image but don't look nothing like me | |
| But we be the children of the most high | |
| Ghosts of the colonized lost in the time | |
| Redesign, redefine what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I'm dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do, do give thanks | |
| to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do |
| zuo qu : Geologic | |
| I don' t know what to write Oh well Yo | |
| I offer nothing but the uncertain promise | |
| That I' ll honestly pursue the crooked path of the conscious | |
| Not just another body in the battle for the soul | |
| Never sold self for its weight in platinum and gold but | |
| Man we' re getting grown | |
| Wisdom got us thinking in the interest of our children even if they ain' t been given their flesh | |
| Their bones | |
| Their homes or their names yet | |
| I' m aiming for the change in my pocket for the payback | |
| The change not mentioned by the government or nothing | |
| The change of a whirlwind unraveling the coming of that next shit | |
| I can' t wait but when it comes, shit | |
| It better be worth the shit that I paid most my life with | |
| It' s nice when it rains sometime | |
| Cleansing minds in my habitat | |
| Imagine that I' m digging to find | |
| What was hidden by the myth of a god up in the sky | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights | |
| Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Way back I used to call upon the Father often | |
| I fought the devil last night and almost lost | |
| Now I' m drinking bottled water | |
| Flushing out the toxins | |
| Vomiting and coughing feeling closer to the coffin | |
| Than I ever had | |
| Every morning that I arrive | |
| Is a night that I survive | |
| Just to be alive sipping chai | |
| Listening to my favorite DJ | |
| Communicate the music, what my rhymes would say | |
| If they were written | |
| With a needle | |
| To the groove | |
| Of a paper | |
| Stylus to papyrus, | |
| record to the player | |
| It' s more than just therapy or excessive energy | |
| I undo the mechanism meant to imprison me | |
| Spiritually, the view from up is not enough | |
| I dwell below to find the god that I rebuff | |
| Redesigned, redefined what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Our Father | |
| my art is Heaven, hallowed be | |
| The drums beating me and my tongue into submission | |
| I can hardly speak breathing this indelible high | |
| From an endless supply of Godspeed, and I need | |
| A brand new prayer to read | |
| Seems the old ones grew tons of mold cuz they' re narrow as hell | |
| Sometimes they be thinking that this heavens for sale | |
| Worse than that, they still think God is a male | |
| But | |
| Moms used to hang up pictures of white Jesus | |
| Fist clutching rosary beads, over the years | |
| I began to question this Father Almighty | |
| Made in His image but don' t look nothing like me | |
| But we be the children of the most high | |
| Ghosts of the colonized lost in the time | |
| Redesign, redefine what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do, do give thanks | |
| to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do |
| zuò qǔ : Geologic | |
| I don' t know what to write Oh well Yo | |
| I offer nothing but the uncertain promise | |
| That I' ll honestly pursue the crooked path of the conscious | |
| Not just another body in the battle for the soul | |
| Never sold self for its weight in platinum and gold but | |
| Man we' re getting grown | |
| Wisdom got us thinking in the interest of our children even if they ain' t been given their flesh | |
| Their bones | |
| Their homes or their names yet | |
| I' m aiming for the change in my pocket for the payback | |
| The change not mentioned by the government or nothing | |
| The change of a whirlwind unraveling the coming of that next shit | |
| I can' t wait but when it comes, shit | |
| It better be worth the shit that I paid most my life with | |
| It' s nice when it rains sometime | |
| Cleansing minds in my habitat | |
| Imagine that I' m digging to find | |
| What was hidden by the myth of a god up in the sky | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights | |
| Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Way back I used to call upon the Father often | |
| I fought the devil last night and almost lost | |
| Now I' m drinking bottled water | |
| Flushing out the toxins | |
| Vomiting and coughing feeling closer to the coffin | |
| Than I ever had | |
| Every morning that I arrive | |
| Is a night that I survive | |
| Just to be alive sipping chai | |
| Listening to my favorite DJ | |
| Communicate the music, what my rhymes would say | |
| If they were written | |
| With a needle | |
| To the groove | |
| Of a paper | |
| Stylus to papyrus, | |
| record to the player | |
| It' s more than just therapy or excessive energy | |
| I undo the mechanism meant to imprison me | |
| Spiritually, the view from up is not enough | |
| I dwell below to find the god that I rebuff | |
| Redesigned, redefined what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Our Father | |
| my art is Heaven, hallowed be | |
| The drums beating me and my tongue into submission | |
| I can hardly speak breathing this indelible high | |
| From an endless supply of Godspeed, and I need | |
| A brand new prayer to read | |
| Seems the old ones grew tons of mold cuz they' re narrow as hell | |
| Sometimes they be thinking that this heavens for sale | |
| Worse than that, they still think God is a male | |
| But | |
| Moms used to hang up pictures of white Jesus | |
| Fist clutching rosary beads, over the years | |
| I began to question this Father Almighty | |
| Made in His image but don' t look nothing like me | |
| But we be the children of the most high | |
| Ghosts of the colonized lost in the time | |
| Redesign, redefine what it meant to be divine | |
| Knowing that She meant for me to rhyme | |
| So I Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I wear this skin to find the me inside of you | |
| When I dream that I' m dreaming I feel most alive | |
| Sacrifice nights, Write to survive | |
| Proper hand gestures conjure ancestors | |
| Drinking from the bottle that was meant | |
| For the message that was sent from the tired and the true | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do, do give thanks | |
| to the most, the least that I can do | |
| I give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| Give thanks to the most, the least that I can do | |
| The least that I can do |