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chester p - the authorship كلمات الأغنية

wake up every morning to the same d-mn feeling
and devise a plan to rise above the city like spiderman
i spent my better years inside a cider can
drowning on the potion in my writers hand
scribbling these feelings man
i wrestle with the best of these times that this life gave to me
my lifestyle was truly reflecting itself hatefully
it took a lot of fears for these words to appear gracefully
on tear stained pages
these beer stained sages of a new world remain to be
mirrored in the words that i wrote in a state of vacancy
no matter what it takes from me
my every little demon always hit the paper sacredly
i shift shape, shaping the state of my face facing these
stations of the battle cats, shackles of complacency
street dwelling weed selling inner city snake in me
walking in the maze of this bitterly made masonry
blazing on a grade of a strain that i spent the day to greet
i walk the streets with a lot of scars
and talks cheap to pay the price of the piper it cost a lot of bars
the hardest truth to obtain is in a knotted shard
buried in my guts this man at large knows that nothing lasts
even the last laugh will demise into a dreaded silence
the dreaded sirens of the banshees of unsettled violence
broke my chain of thought of self emanc-p-ted guidance
a rebel rising on these vapours of a devils island
lsd and psilocybin were my saving grace
i used to sit and meditate about trading places
with all my people who had left me for the sacred matrix
i saw tomorrow like a paper chase
but these papers never meant sh-t, they still don’t mean sh-t
i’ve seen a lot of friendships, destroyed by this fiendish
green light of greed within a dreamlike consensus
to feed right this street life’ll breed misadventures
the poet in me, romanticising daily huh?
the worlds a drug, my life’s paraphernalia
if i could climb out of bed with this bag of weed
i mean id sit and write a tale that could travel to australia
reverse itself, echoing success within the failure
returning to the sender the agenda of my saviour
this telekinesis got me speaking like xavier
maybe i’m a crazy case wake up with this lazy face
observe my every presence in this future im creating
in this state of mind i found myself writing these words to say to ya
now do ya get me? rewind it and hear it twice
i used to spend my days afraid of having sober nights
man i know i now control the universal dice
i roll em on a bed of stars, creation is my only right
simply put in a mult-tude of stages
i’m the author and the characters thats found within the pages
of this novel that i’m writing so i write it how the f-ck i feel
the truth igniting this writing is knowing nothings real
if life is nothing it’s simply because theres nothing willed
so i rewrite it enlightened by this proper sk!ll
i could be lost, blinded by the daffodils
i spend my whole life meditating but this stack of bills
is building up behind me while i’m visualising happy meals
feeding empty faces who are clapping like a pack of seals
for all these rappers in a frenzy tryna’ boast to us
“i f-ck b-tches”, yea mate so do most of us
we chase riches ’till our spirits like a ghost to us
then lay down in our ditches and dream of these people close to us
you’re quite ironically furthest away
i surrender to this pen and these words that i say
and in the universe next door there’s a next chess tryna’ explore
the next best solution for losing a grip on deaths law
so lets say, all of us are created in this headsp-ce
of self expressive lightwaves, preparing for the next page
i wrote that, i looked upon the heavens and controlled that
while the goddess of success was busy begging for some bocat
but i ain’t yamming underneath of any old scat
my soul clapped the book changed its name like poll tax
and nowadays i’m pretty sure they’ll never understand me
so i write myself a part where my art is candid
i’ll leave you stranded in a novel that i’m yet to finish
too many hours being made up of regretful minutes
too many minutes to calculate the counting seconds
i take the stage, take my bow until tomorrow beckons

- chester p

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