crack this crackhead addicted to my head
that space of in finite space dead
roses are true and violence spill red
i'm only the two that heard everything unsaid
lightly i dance where my feet do dare tread
a belly not full though seemingly well fed
in valleys i dwell of mountains instead
of vistas like oceans that God bled
destiny blast embrace dare not dread
casted dream spell from a well made bed

lost in a rhythm that's clappin and hittin
spinnin in a prism chrystined by wisdom
fittin to spittin the ism from breath in to ear in to whizzin
pushin the pen in the hand and jammin the fist in the air
steppin the zen in the man in from roots to the tip of the hair
strokin the chin in and standin and fannin the flames up to flare
causin a pausin of laws and with batches of scratches and comical stares