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/