| Slap me Daft, we sat down in the back of the class | |
| To seize knowledge we don't need, I forgot my late pass | |
| But I'm early to a arival beatbox, you got raps? | |
| Meet me on the football field, don't sleep on field, the quarterback | |
| No one clapped when we locked in, it was removal of our class | |
| But my flag got captured and I fell between the cracks | |
| My tool for inspiration turned into a handicap | |
| No matter how I tried, I just couldn't fill the gaps | |
| Those whipper snappers, they got trapped old chap | |
| They lost the way, they never had the right map | |
| Needed a sneak attack to slap the demons off my back | |
| So I packed for the schddle dreamed big I wouldn't settle | |
| Put the pedal to the metal and returned to fundamentals | |
| I'll never forget running through the hall with all y'all rebels | |
| Roaming through the high land, young bucks invincible | |
| Echoes in my brain, if kids report to the principle | |
| Substance dulls the mind | |
| Traife wine clouds the heart | |
| You can't sew a stitch with one hand | |
| While you're taking it apart | |
| Bright lights might look nice | |
| But they sure won't make you sharp | |
| You can't sew a stitch with one hand | |
| While you're taking it apart | |
| Yeah, misty morning and my mum's a mess | |
| To make matters worse dog my pops is stressed | |
| Life is a test, make the grade or catch an F | |
| Now death is all that's left to ponder | |
| I wander off hoping to catch my breath | |
| Yeah, misty morning and my mum's a mess | |
| To make matters worse dog my pops is stressed | |
| Life is a test, make the grade or catch an F | |
| Now death is all that's left to ponder | |
| I wander off hoping to catch my breath | |
| And hold it, mold my memories from untold scripts | |
| And roll up in a tornado twist, now I'm certain | |
| There's a pertinent reason I'm on this earth | |
| Seasons change in white plains, but we remain alert | |
| When new school years appear, fools fear for a failure | |
| And crawl away in tears | |
| I play Popeye the Sailor and stay with spinach | |
| We walk the halls with a grimace | |
| Yeah they gossip in groups | |
| I try to mind my business and tell the truth | |
| For instance, I listen, see it all with basketball court vision | |
| Ignoring ignorance in fields of fiction | |
| We lean back in the calmest position | |
| And embrace the honesty found within our tension | |
| What's good? | |
| Substance dulls the mind | |
| Traife wine clouds the heart | |
| You can't sew a stitch with one hand | |
| While you're taking it apart | |
| Bright lights make you blind | |
| But they sure don't leave you sharp | |
| You can't sew a stitch with one hand | |
| While you're taking it apart | |
| Trapped in the elevator of your mind | |
| Is it real, what will you find behind the door | |
| Your imaginations put you in a bind | |
| Around you there's a cloud of gloom | |
| Swallow the key, lock yourself in a room | |
| Can't see outside of your Universe | |
| No more war, there won't be anymore hunger | |
| No jealousy, not even competition | |
| Let go, release, you hold the keys | |
| Time we evaporate into the breeze | |
| We are nothing, we are something | |
| Let go, release, you hold the keys | |
| It's time we evaporate into the breeze | |
| We are nothing, we'll be something | |
| Welcome to the desert of my soul | |
| You can stay if you like | |
| There's room for one more | |
| There's room for one more |
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