Verse1 Feel the vibration, you heard what he sayin/ Fucking stupid not to listen/ Tears across the planet claim pain, but provide you ways to stop it/ Wars with the self, wars with the other/ Fuck those who follow government regime / Dressed in uniforms, holding weapons, raping homes and other nations/ Disturbing spiritual guidance’s by those who dance with the frauds/ Physical wars, mental and spiritual wars break down the cultures of living without struggle/ Ask yourself the fatal questions of life/ Do you contribute holding hands with the uglier side of the surface/ Skin the canvas and witness new existence/ Truth past dreams that come true/ The now’s have come for you to drop the image of everything you know/ No need to explain in code/ Every rhyme is part of the msg/ No need for the rhyme over sound, the one opening statement explains it all/ A definition of simplicity/ Let there be no more war. Everybody listen, chant these words hold hands sway together/ Consolidate new vibrations/ Let me say this, let me say this/ Verse2 In no way does this mean one cannot defend the self/ But understand the avenues of your decisions towards targeting your goals/ Easier said than done, but test the waters and swim easy, life gets deeper/ Many will hate your decisions to live in peace/ Don’t watch these faces of disturbance/ Let the laughs turns to cries of help when you come back to rescue em’/ Bless your own soul move within your own light/ Conducted without choice to a move connected/ If war speaks any louder than from the figures of wild fantasy disturbed measures in the frame/ For that will Earth close its doors on the peoples?/ For you that is the ones they call humans/ Peace is a gesture until something wicked steps in/ Fetch them old bones, mark the ground and through em’/ Will the ground talk, if it does will listen to Earths warnings?/ War breaks the planet down raw/ Hurt as a peoples, war within itself is just as devastating/ Smile in the midst of a connection that needs sparked again/

Verse1 Black holes, blank canvas loud voices/ Screaming broken whispers, behind your back live the spells of the wicked/ Paranoia just a scapegoat, intuition rules the terrain of this natural way of thinking/ Obba Supa, test the arts and craft of the simple/ Provoke disturbance when we twist the path exposing real truth/ Generic pavement rap with a touch of misunderstood knowledge/ Dead but the souls of such skills still slip through the speakers/ Hungry minds board by violence mixed with knowledge/ What’s the purpose, advocate the difference in change before you expose the already known/ Poetic motions The IS, learn to breath for the sake of living/ Cut the scenes of rap start to break the image/ Black holes, black canvas, loud voices, screaming whispers Verse2 The planet is changing, going through some phases/ Whatever happens know your life’s worth/ What’s faith when church closes its door on nits servants/ Bitch face on money means nothing/ Pissed if you hold no skills of nature/ Can your defend the self after the point you lost your cowardly weapon/ Rather swing the sharpest blade of liberation/ Crafted by the factors of spiritual foundations/ Learn/Teach up in this, no preaching/ Just the ways of my writing/ So much in the quest of why we do this/ Three hours later and now we beyond reality/ Not just stupid words to construct verses/ Internal reflected onto pages, no need for appraisal/ Rather do this alone then commit group suicide/ Just another turnover of these lost stones/ Just another turnover of these lost stones/

Verse1 Black body like venom exit the oil tank/ How much for this physical vessel, coated skins/ See in between the lines and pray for your mother and father/ The day you sell your soul/ No contracts, shit happens by actions of your own default/ Rap just a tool from the box of disturbance/ Open it from the inside and spark new light/ Like word life, peace to the 90’s/ Things can’t be exact but the msg is universal/ The source of thought can be traced back to the point of one/ This IS beyond the scriptures of drug and guns/ Holographic theories, ethnic powers which will always lead to supremacy/ Behold another tragic story of truth/ Same pains, different colour faces when the tables turn over/ Maybe the sky will talk with cosmic warnings/ If so who will listen?/ Will ignorance at its best kick in or will intuition take control/ And accept the many ways to learn then teach/ No reason to destroy the self for the comfort of a few shows/ Get twisted, fuck a bitch disguised as a woman like you disguised like a man/ Forever those who live life in the dark but promote the source that will blind/ Many will disagree, too easy to judge but I talk from a place beyond what I see/ No codes in the rhyme just bodies existing the oil tank, black boxes to be exact/ Burn when the match drops, nothings perfect/ So at most some will cope with the karma see when it gets broken/ Nothing is impossible, put that on my life/ If the man upstairs exist then strike me down right now/ Fuck it are you ready for the other side? whilst I write this rhyme ….. Still waiting/ Continue this constructed scripture stupid image of god man made/ Lost in the genuine source of life/ Breathing art exploring life’s canvas/ If the daily routine of most was a flower/ Picture the most poisoned soils and dying flowers hurt by no love or light/ Take flight as fear goes twelve rounds with flight/ Whoever wins will hold the reigns when the clockwork of your reality gets broken/ Disturbed or interrupted, the vacuum of the now so powerful the movement is forever life changing/

Verse1 Scars on the page, blood in the verse/ My flesh is my word, absurd visions/ The cause and effect bless the sound, that’s the truth/ Its sparks emotion felt the pains of exploited vision Tek the IS I spit poems to clap the illest chosen/ As above so be it be from the plains of difference/ Clouds cover knowledge until the weathers change/ Translated hidden agendas/ Invisible footsteps towards the home of the species/ Underline the structures for further learning/ Resting on a better vibration then yesterday/ Day by day since we stepped out the gates/ Souls with old faces, physical vessels move like jet fire/ R.I.P to Kaya Mauritian legend had to slip that in/ Back to the equation of mixed incantations/ Some change sides where do you rest as the pendulum swings/ Peep the rhythm whilst I blast this rhyme unseen mental mathematics no more midnights/ Out of sweet nothings I write the answers/ Back of the class sits my imagination/ No rest for the wicked, the reason fuckery still exist/ Stuck exhausted, exploring the wonders of the light/ Conversations with animated life, odd numbers, and mirror reflections/ The eyes never lie so be it they closed/ The canvas is black, so it seems but now the bridge is formed/ Heat expels radiated thought toxins released/ Work the vessel use my mind to burn your fucking image reality will favour its display/ Who’s the victim? Universal message sails the never ending seas of the game/ Sharpen your pencils of creation and start designing/ Fuck where your born, black or white we all life architects/ Pardon the words of Tek, if that makes you vexed/ Obba Supa break the balance to restore order/ Life manifest on new pages when the others rise to new heights/ From street rats to pharaohs, who will dare step further/ Spark the all in self the one of many half of nothing/ The will stands in the way Positive force push up on the feminine source/ Picture the clash, the labs of creation/ A lot rest in between these concealed reasons of rhyme/ Far from perfect but you get the message/ No reception, polarity holds a hand out in both directions/ Slaves break free ask Norman rad/ 02:22 I lock onto the clock, the irony in the math/ Stupid illusions, 1 plus the one and from the 7 keep it moving/

Verse1 Close your eyes and picture your sisters/ No Sunday best standing in church/ These voices of the souls with shackles still attached their bone structures/ The sympathy is sickening when screams of rape/ Mental, physical and spiritual fuckery cries from beyond/ Sold cracks to blacks? I wonder on the answers from the authors of rap/ That point the spoken picture stand for the meaning of illusions/ Fuck it since I hold no grasp on things of such natures/ Fuck your ego, let me grip the rope around your necks and kick the stole/ On her knees, forced from behind, is your blood boiling?/ Is it as simple to know the pain of the past but be the hand to feed it in the nows?/ Question your future in this garden of words/ Even trees cry forced to hold hanging bodies/ Too much reading and no active forward movement/ Fuck a punch line and words on pages when you hide behind screens and microphone devices/ Hate the words then shut me down/ Can’t be struck by the views of the others/ And so it should be liberated likewise but keep things simple/ I do this for my peoples, over and over again/ Can’t express it no other way like movements with the one consciousness/ Test me, the laws, deep knowing, Obba Supa destroy all aspects of the illusion/ The art of arts on this rap canvas/ Reality force broken, we feed existence beyond reality/ Broken, we feed existence beyond reality/

Verse1 Spit these rhymes for the art of expression/ Liberated self, at least from the pages of my own world/ Self-hate lives with the ugliest of smiles/ Look at the people around you/ Hard to accept this, so much percentage drowns the fly in the cup/ Eat well to understand pain, should we spark the experience?/ Its easy to raise alarms on the societies brutality/ Once again in the rhyme its back to the mirror/ Mirrors that reflect the source, part the physical/ No need to wait till death knocks with rotten flowers/ Or maybe the freshness, either way like it now or dig your own grave/ Don’t provoke wasted tears from the emotions of your closest/ For real, conversations that are your last always need a second part/ Are you ready for the other side/ Rewind the title and press play from escapade escaping/ Follow the musical journey from the start/ Form the puzzle, the arts far from perfect/ But the canvas and source house the energies continuously growing/ Chakra sound, praises no ideals, but understands the messages found from countless sources

Verse1 Smash the glass, no blood drips, reflected pieces/ Rest left to form puzzles/ Is it just a phase of mind, orders of life/ Fuck what the others do/ Obba Supa move random, parts of the canvas humble/ Whilst the other side hungers to destroy whoever thinks they the illest on this home turf/ Destroy crews alone, so much twisted competition/ No pints in spreading knowledge without the hand to move forward and teach/ Selfish emcees, pointless sentences using conscious paths as the illusions/ Reaching the same goals, whores on poles/ Walk the lands you call home and only steers will great your words of wisdom/ Complicated history walks with ease when liberation actually means something/ Still stuck on warfare, gripping weapons/ So many lost in the painful vision call me stupid/ Verse 2 Foolish, can’t predict the spiritual factors behind the IS/ Too easy to spit over kick drums high hats and dusty breaks/ I see the fear from the realms of authors to explore the difference/ They fail but die trying only to spit on less emotional sound/ Stuck on the image of what an emcee should be/ Test this craft and your poetry will dry the colours of reality/ Violent msgs interlocked with a positive raw msg/ Please underline the point of relation/ Fuck it battle the self to break the poisonous cyphers/ Spit in the face of my peers, calm your terror/ I expose rhyme styles in peace/ Breaking down components, the weapons of war/ What’s a flow when the content in between the equation means fuck all/ Wonderlands of the dangerous, no care on whoever chooses to listen or feels offended/ Young seeds only see a green light of no understanding/ Pick up a weapon and start shooting for a better way of living/ If this is the sad case, you pick it up first/ Be the example of your msg and start the shooting/