Formula - My Music, My Soul
I really wish the kids could see us
N' learn everything that our lives will teach us,
One person can genuinely make differences,
So i'll cling to life n' hope you cling to these sentences,
Outside to the inside, when the middle's where answers lie,
Point n' stare, do the passer bys, laugh as they passin' by
What's Common ? It's the light, so bright for all to see
You'd think w/ electricity, ya'll would learn to read
Not smoke 'til it burns to breath, I got this urge in me
To cut n' drip passion on wax - For ya'll, I yearn to bleed
We all capture firm beliefs, n' life churns in sneaks
'Cause you gotta walk a mile atleast, to earn your keep
For me, I turned to beats, 8 years, noteboooks filled up
N' if there was such a thing, I'd run ink n' led bills up,
'Cause whatever gets built up, it's released to looseleaf,
Idea sparks, I lose sleep, write, then snooze 'til I reach
The time when days start over, part I play will grow but
Let's face facts, like you, I'm another day older
[Chorus]
So much left to do, What's next to do?
Somethin' huge so cats can't fill these shoes,
I'ma say it now, I'll live long n prosper
The Good Die Young,
So if you see Death, tell her don't bother
My life's about making impacts w/ facts to attract
Certain values I must obtain, the ones that others lack,
Maintain my brothers back, chill, on to another track
Got to get some money, but I stay behind w/ quarters
Try to leave, I keep runnin' back
I'll stay in poverty as long as ya'll follow me there,
'Cause even in rough times,
I'm the pornographic type, see my soul stripped bare,
I'll sell it if the price is nice, sure the price is right
But am I really willing to become a slave tonight ?
Nahh, that's whole different spectrum,
A role, listen careful
N' don't keep missin' shows w/ lessons,
I show progression, Christs passion, I lacked it
But I re-tapped it,
N' allowed magic to become one of my habits for action
I don't want to see the headstone that holds my name,
Chills are too cold for aim,
So when I scold her, my brain anuresyms,
N' re-enters prison, folds w/ shame
Many hands mold this frame,
Made up of pens n' pencils
W/ a heart that pumps delicately,
Like it's a work of stencils,
On beat, i'm instrumental
Apart of the process to rekindle
Every little bit of the past,
Memories are sentimental,
Sending subliminals to those who've passed
I'll see ya'll,
But not now, she won't catch me that fast. .
Chorus
