Key: B minor
Verse 1
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age was outlandish
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An guish, anxiousness,
and taking it for granted
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so relieved I lost my focus
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Soon exceeded recommended
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dosages
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Now I hold the grip that holds the soul
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that holds the poet skills
I don't suppose you're taking
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Breaking too much mind trying
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in need of some as sembly
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So I can find the secret key
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and free all the emcees
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This planet spins on a bent axis
you to grasp the atmos'
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My agenda was to freestyle, smile,
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get paid to smoke weed,
spoonfeed?
There's more to this than
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If you're riding on this song you need
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to ride it to the end
Verse 2
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the
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Earth
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Planets as
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small
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as
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balls of clay (x4)
Verse 3
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Some get exposed as little man big pose
Some make moves and some stay
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But everbody seems to want some loot,
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food and a beemer
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with camel insides,
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10 percent tips,
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Mr. Pibb and some french fries
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Inch by inch I take it closer to the shoulder
But day by day it's getting
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harder to stay sober
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Movement needs motive,
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it's easier to be sedated
Verse 4
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Why does my psyche give a damn
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I grip this mic tight because it's
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all I really have a grip on
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The only difference is the day to some dust on the clay,
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what?
Interlude 1
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Verse 5
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is that? it ain't mine,
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Already got a plate full of clay on my table
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I'm capable of handling fate, I know this
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when this microphonist spits
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lines that emcees thought up
But it's clear to me the ones that fear
me are the one's that oughta
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I deliver subtle terror submerged
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Instantly pissin? away the misfits
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The only residue that came of the
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hypothetical spew they sprayed
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When they swayed I'd have em
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I may be on those
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At last, when we get down to it
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There's more than sand and fluid
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Can we take trinkets? No.
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So when the ink hits it's more
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Centuries from now they're gonna
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study Atmosphere
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Carefully I steer, I'm aware life is fatal
Outro 1
(Chorus - 4X)
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TunerE A D G B E
ChordsFm Db Ab Gb
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