paint palette - 137 (us) lyrics
hey man
we got to talk
i have some people starving
and it seems you have the stalk
i know it’s only been a month
and you’ve remained so consistent
so please excuse my insistence
but it’s time to feed your flock
you know i have plans on horizon
but i
could give a taste of the future
and i
have a big exam this monday
but you know what
the class always waits for the teacher
gather my pillow and then i eat my dreams
when i have to pick between sleep and food
‘cause the things that i see when i hit those seams
are the kind that would change your attitude
i flow ‘gainst river
i reap in winter
when i get a splinter
i push it deeper
i ask for dough
when i k!ll the baker
i’ll sleep really well
when i meet my maker
life’s
choking on the cinnamon
but keeping the rhythm
or running in a marathon
with the sharp pain of the venom
i got a lot of it in my veins, though
i found jukebox to put my dime in
it’s a special type of diner
‘cause they don’t take pesos or diamonds
please
do slide in a notable quote or an anecdote
i was humpty dumpty but n0body came to save me
so i pieced myself together with my flows and my pages
and soon i came to find the chaos deeply woven in normalcy
and can understand why the craft is a drug to the sages
stay tuned, i got way more truth to evince, like
there’s always paint for canvas, if you bleed on the palette
or the source of blood that stains the golden crown of a prince
or the way that precious liquid tastes when it reaches palate
pope or pauper may not talk to piper
but i guarantee they’ll both meet the reaper
and i got the conch, so do let me speak
i’m not a craven soul, i won’t dare beseech
better to die doing something you love
than to live doing something you hate
i got a piece of the pie handed from above
it’s the only food that will sate
you swim fast
but you’ll still get caught on the hook
because it’s not your speed in water
but the urge you forsook
i have slept among the swine but i’m no prodigal son
cracked some hurdles on the track though i won’t forfeit the run
i’m becoming the tree i always knew i’d be
struggled through the seas of sorrow with no promise of glee
i came out the womb knowing tears and sweat were key
even though my mama told me that’s the ocd
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