Monday, May 19, 2014
A commodity. A bond of lines placed beyond the Gauntlet of minds. They figure Taut is divine. Sorry. I am just dropping in twine. My model's the philosopher's grind of Plato's arch. Archaic, yet...a Brawn, in design.
So reply to this then.
Don't try to pretend you ain't eying this, friend.
you know you've been peeping this shit
To see who you're competing against.
But yeah, King, spit the fire.... engulfing a flame.
Cause the modern world ain't been
the same since the Exalted as came.
It's so like these sociologists try to throw salt on my name
Insulting my reign. I'm Timothy Dalton playing'
James Bond, your brains on the terrain. Gone.
These lames, playing the same song.
Get Jays, like my name's Shawn. And it hasn't changed since then.
This pen? inflicting. melody cues.
The devilish hues of Satan. Using patience to move to you through acoustic statements.
Just patterns on tape - elated to fans.
Like the lighter flames from the stands, as they're waving their hands.
World stage, at the Grand.
It's amazing. Almost like I play in a band.
They just chant my name on command.
Wow. Intelligence speaking for the gentlemen. I'm letting em' peak in...
to see how the puritan works.
They acclaim it as greatness without hearing it first.
Verses. Works of artists that stretch the dawn of time.
A commodity. A bond of lines placed beyond the Gauntlet of minds.
They figure Taut is divine.
Sorry. I am just dropping in twine. My model's
the philosopher's grind of Plato's arch. Archaic, yet...a Brawn, in design.