Blurred Lines
• Written by IllWordz
Now that I'm back on the apparatus I'm pullin' from all my facets
I don't need Gibson to show me nothin about the passion
Cuz Gods love comes around like a bunch a backflips
Now people wanna claim that Weed is greener than the grass is
I had to gain faith by gettin backed up to the wall
I ain't tryina be thirty eight and have no track revolve
cuz this is special, even after the period
cuz when its at your face thats how you know it gets serious
I've been in the hoods where people shootin the block up
My relief was in bars, not talking bout the vodka
Back when my mode of speech wasnt even Proper
Listening to Dr. Dre as if he was a real doctor
My brain was scattered like shells poppin from a Mossberg
Thinkin to myself that I was never gonna prosper
How could I beat the system, when I'm not a monster?
And any truth you look for is hidden by impostors
I learned the hard way...I took the tough road
Pot holes, cops and stuck behind where the bus drove
No shoulder to lean the whip that I've been driving
Lookin for somethin that I could go an set my mind in
It won't stop rainin I wanna talk to Poseidon
But he don't care I'm still lookin for someone to confide in
you can flip through all my issues & watch me let out the steam
but trust I never meant to do that wit a magazine
I CANT READ! BETWEEN THE LINES OR EVEN MINDS
I CANT SLEEP! THE REAPERS TRYIN TO CEASE MY GRIND
IM THINKIN LIKE....THE FALLACIES NEED TO BURN
BUT ITS MAD HARD WHEN THE BOUNDARIES SEEM TO BLUR
I CANT READ! BETWEEN THE LINES OR EVEN MINDS
I CANT SLEEP! THE REAPERS TRYIN TO CEASE MY GRIND
IM THINKIN LIKE....THE FALLACIES NEED TO BURN
BUT ITS MAD HARD WHEN THE BOUNDARIES SEEM TO BLUR
Subconsciously usin memories for prophecy
Those mocking me get cut short like an apostrophe
I paint pictures to your mind that even all the blind could see
even Pac could see im 2 nice with the mockery
But theres only two greater that can loop it back to me
The Father and the Son that effortlessly cautioned sadducees
Lookin at my actions like," We got some work to do
this boy aint gonna learn a thing with nothin to suffer through"
its easy to blame it all on God but thats unlikely true
i check my talk and my walk, without a nike shoe
so let me bare my soul, before I walk another road
That way when I face the music I won't have to pass a note
im tryina never fold like an older motorola
a razor'd never be fit to ever help me hold up
so i raise the bars higher than a major cause
that way you dont space when you see me shootin past the stars
Feedback & Comments
About the Artist
IllWordz
Member since July 9 2015