myka 9 - darkleaf/u.n.i.t.y. committee party pt. 1 كلمات الأغنية

[aceyalone (?)]
now i’ve gotta pass it
now i’ve gotta pass it
now i’ve gotta pass it
now i’ve gotta pass it to
myka 9 [?] time

[myka 9]
there are many dimensions within the universe
what makes you think you make a difference with a puny verse?
you’re an iota moving your motor to reach a quota
with an angel and a demon on your shoulder, pushing you over the brim
sing hymns, swing limbs, bring friends
celebrate, sell your fate, hibernate
heathens are breathing the same, smuggin’ receiving
b_b_b_bobbing and weaving, but they be robbing and thieving
but i’m a shepherd, before the people flock to me
i’m a leopard, not a half_stepper, not a leper
i hold the scepter, like the pharaohs in the pyramid
here we didn’t spare the rod to spoil the child when we were kids
from any parents apparently transparent to metropolis
poor intelligence is stopping us
a strategy to keep a brother undercover
suffer for, a moving target’s harder to hit
with a maneuver or a duke, not a box but a fluke
in the system, wisdom
randomly giving this, how i kissed them
hazardous vultures, thieving cultures
sacred rights of the parody poke and bit at the [?]
you’re p_ssing your drawers and awestricken
striking the mic
your bones are broken in fight
striking the mic
i like…
dynamite sticks, and ice cream sticks
i like to tweak, i like to speak
and like i said before, i like to sneak
i pick up some dirt
i recognise the gravel, i stand up
i’m about to travel, but when i’m cordless
i like to attach to the cord like the umbilical
and it’s incredible, inedible, impossible
the way i flowww
f_l_o_w, it’s in trouble, you [?] grow
my brethren and my sister, they know
that microphone mike’s on top of the o_hi_o_o
i know how to…
anyway…
respect duke
[?]
close your mouth, you needed to save that breath
you need to savor the flavor of the dust before your death
inhale, your lungs begin to swell
exhale, your tongue begins to tell
trails and tracks and rails and racks and rhymes
sales and stacks and wells in wax in time
all my hands on the other hand jams
i jab all ’em, snuff all ’em up, protect ’em and bubble ’em up (?)
fans, are floating in the middle, holding hands
are rolling on the riddle of
never a second, fiddling [?] little feet
as i, break for the beat
as i, take time to complete this uniqueness
d_mn, i’m standing by myself, i must tweak or dismiss
this mic, what is this? i insist that this should be resisted
i am addicted to it, inflicted pain and suffering
i need a buffering
respect duke…

- myka 9

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