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Listenin to strange fruit, Jay root and beirut |
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Tryin to listen to Jesus its hard as fake boobs |
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At times i stay tuned hear the bread break |
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And grape juice and grey goose gossiple |
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Prelude let it play through |
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I'm listenin to Mr J Medeiros and Nicolay |
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While I'm hearing drips of rain |
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Hit against the window pane |
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Hits on tape, hit parade 1968 |
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When it plays i hear the bullets penetrate |
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MLK, soul levitate |
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When the plane starts to escalate |
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Top gun, take my breath away |
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Its time to press and play |
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Drop the needle then step away |
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Hear whats said off the record |
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Before theres nothin left to say |
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In my room listenin to sermon Gershwin, |
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Earth wind, and fire |
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Listenin to persons i admire |
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Searchin for higher learnin like ice cube |
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On i-tunes, listenin to grown men |
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Rappin like it's highschool |
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Listenin to friends talk, hearin my pen stop |
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Used to write first, now i try to listen then jot |
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Listenin to pop like reddenbachs |
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City to the boondocks |
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Can't you hear the games like a jukebox? |
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Cause you gotta pay to play |
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And theres no lay-away |
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hearin from folks caught in real snares, no 808 |
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Real talk, my vocals go and slay the tape |
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I say it straight and never twice |
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No fake delay |
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Listen with the volume down, push the sound back |
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If every lifes a movie all our soundtracks |
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Sound like sound clash |
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All our sounds bleeding in |
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To each other no sound reasonin |
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Stop, breathe again, listen |
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Music is a great way to heal |
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And a safe place to feel |
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Trapped in this fake world |
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A gateway to real |
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It's a great way to heal |
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And a safe place to feel |
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Trapped in this fake world |
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A gateway to real |
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Listenin to sounds in a space thats vacant |
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Profound and deep, underground as basements |
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And quiet as kept but i found it sacred |
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A sage said silence is the sound of patience |
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Listen |