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The sun reflects off of the waves at sea |
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Rain support roots that implants the tree |
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There's a breeze - in the park, kites fly high |
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Under the branches, con-vertibles fly by |
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The sky.. |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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..blue, fields green |
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Paints a picture that creates a scene |
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Of the destiny that controls my fate |
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Reflections of light, creates shapes |
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[prince poetry] |
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Inside of this particular sphere, i see kids in the street |
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When i pass, i go beep! beep! beep! |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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See the black boy over there runnin scared |
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His old man runs numbers summers |
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Come in and he'll feel dumb if his son |
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Doesn't have a new pair of sneakers |
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So he combinates people's numbers in sequence |
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When play straight, but not in the leaders |
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[organized konfusion] |
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Hip-hop pumps inside of jeeps and cars |
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It's daytime but we still peep stars |
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Parties every night, we gotta move, we gotta go |
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We gotta step, let's, jet! |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk into the sun! ha hah |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk into the sun! |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk into the sun! ha hah |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk.. in..to.. the.. sun.. |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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Love and hate, black and white |
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Right or wrong, who is right? |
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Some smoke joints to annoint their brain |
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To the vanishing point, so they won't go insane |
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[prince poetry] |
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Mother may i? yes you may |
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Take some giant steps, to go out, and play |
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I got next, sorry duke, i got my five |
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You better call next, and step to the side |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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There's no specific topic of speech in this rhyme |
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I just wanna go on a ride |
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On a kaleidoscopic tree, visually.. |
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[prince poetry] |
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..individually, we go our seperate ways |
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To get our haircuts and mustaches trimmed |
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Rockin a t-shirt, shorts with thick socks |
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With my boots that i nickname tim-ber |
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Here comes dayfall |
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I can remember when we used to chill and hang |
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With paul, sea.. |
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[organized konfusion] |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk into the sun! ha hah |
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We gotta get away, we gotta do it now |
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We gotta walk.. in..to.. the.. sun.. |
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Sittin on a stoop, while the johnny-pump shoots |
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Water while we eat fruits |
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The radio pumps, rockin to l.o.n.s. and yes |
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The girls display flesh by the way they dress |
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[prince poetry] |
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The ave surprises, the fulfilling collage |
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Of scratches that strike like sticky matches |
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Attacking techniques with combinating |
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Constantly motivating highly elevating the light steps |
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[pharoahe monch] |
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When the air gets thick and you can feel the tension |
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I bypass howard, and detour benson |
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Cause i don't really feel like fencing today |
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So i chill in my own dimension and listen to the sax blow.. |
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.. flow, abstract the sax always seems to relax you |
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But at the same time, it attacks you |
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In this particular era of darkness |
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Bust a rhyme that might enlighten the mind and spark this |
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Trail to follow the light that's guiding you from |
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The evil that you walk into the sun |
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From what i see it's an addiction |
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I'll explain to the brain about pain affliction |
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Grab my hand, hold it tightly |
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Close your eyes and maybe you might see what i see |
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Yo, what i said simplistic |
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But what i see's not materialistic |
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[prince poetry] |
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My hayfever is actin up, so i took a couple of antihistamines |
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Whew! i got struck with relief |
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Now patiently, i wait for the summer |
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Cause the spring brings pollen and that can be a bummer |
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A terrific brother was havin a specific get-together by the beach |
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Rolling rock's, plus peach schnapps, served on the rocks |
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The organisms play the boardwalk, pullin numbers from pros' peak |
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The scenario, where we go pumpin the alpine stereo |
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Hop along the turnpike on our way to the merry-go- |
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-round up the herbs at six flags; we're on a mission |
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Hittin the streets of new york in zig-zags |
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Walkin to the park, hark, the herald, named erald |
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Who creates with charts |
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Central park swarms with intellectual dialects |
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With the potential, of the city's best emergency medical techs |
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So i dip dip dive |
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Listen to the musicians in the park play live |
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The funky drummer was drummin even though he was a bum |
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Some couldn't comprehend, the vibe that blended |
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With the sum, there were some, who wasn't dumb |
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I supported with the hum, dropped five bucks, cause he was the one |
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Yo, i gave a clap, i gave a wink, i gave a shout |
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I gotta meet the monch, strike three, and i was out! |