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Illogic
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The Only Constant
Everything changes, we stray from the predictable,
Towards our own destiny built upon original concepts to listen to,
Two ill individuals born to score. [Repeat]
I'm stuck between the mic and hard place,
(Battling) with space time continuum for control of my destiny
(Traveling) goes through in your windows in lethargy
(Hardly) noticing I've been waiting for that stop sign to change green
(Pardon me) may I borrow a spoonful of sugar to help my medicine stay down?
(Drown) my problems in weed, smoke to alter reality.
(Found) a way to stay on top of things, use my eagle as a stepladder,
(Sounds) fool proof cos no fool has the balls to make the steps shatter.
(Sound) this image in memory, brush strokes of symmetry,
With masses in alientation conquered an amenity
Stand as a friend to me then instantly stretch words across tracks and distaste in my act to explore rap without understanding the facts.
Simply I'm sick of humans.
I only answer to an angel,
So the rest of you can deep-throat the shaft of which you dangle.
I don't mean to be lude, but they're just constantly under my skin,
Then again when I'm open, I usually invite 'em in.
Though we're on a different page,
I bless the stage after I vomit,
My time is soon to come 'cause change is the only constant.
Everything changes, we stray from the predictable,
Towards our own destiny built upon original concepts to listen to,
Two ill individuals born to score. [Repeat]
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I bask in time shadow on a bed of orange and amber leaves once emerald,
Hearing echoes of chalk outlines ringing my lobes,
Rhythmic break-beats bang on eardrums as life unfolds.
'Cause I'm no longer a man of yesterday, but of tomorrow.
Heart pumping blue liquid life, so drown in your sweet sorrow.
Legs dance offbeat on tables
And presence of enemies requesting serenity without these or disease remedies,
Curing purity and defense of the passive.
As the one telling the story I have the right to ad-lib.
It's called change, Illogic always against the grain,
It's called strange, and I'm aware that there's hell on earth, it's called fame.
Aim at your consciousnesses for a metamorphosis
From the instant gratification hares to the patience of tortoises
Rest in tranquility, you now embody the brilliance to comets,
Your time is soon to come because time is the only constant.
Everything changes, we stray from the predictable,
Towards our own destiny built upon original concepts to listen to,
Two ill individuals born to score. [Repeat]
Born to score.
Born to score.
Every time,
Every rhyme,
Illogic, Blue Print on the tracks.
Born to score, born to score. (oh yeah)
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