Turn The Lights Up Letra

cut frays from the loose ends, amends with enemies
sail the seven seas and assume new identities?
produce the remedy, capture it in a flask
grasp the glass in your hand, drink it back fast
past your lips, right over your tongue
let it rush down your throat, let it soak in your blood
it'll open you up to new aspects of madness
if you have that passion to establish a habit
practice magic granted with a pen and a pad
raid medicine cabinets then head back to the lab
with a packet of raps, single bars and ideas
try to carve art out of dreams and nightmares
cut out the canvas til the view is panoramic
360 degrees, into English from Sanskrit
mics up, lights up when I bust my stuff
eyes shut, I write stuff guys love like Fight Club

this is not market target audience pop
or rap that's money girls ice and rocks
stuff has to stop, it's hip hop's monotony
as I bring the rock like Shirley Jackson's The Lottery

I jotted it down, getting this off the ground
you got shot in the mouth but what are you talking about?
catastrophe is happening, it's upon us now
my heart's dark with thoughts of problems I've found
it's 2pacalypse now, where's Chris Wallace now?
their vision is missing in this monotonous sound
lost but it's found, now the message is back
intelligent rap, packed like breakfast at Stacks
carry cavalry, weapons is pen and a pad
snakes can't rattle me, I spit this venomous rap
with sentences that help replenish the craft
the way that it is is the way I'm telling it as
I'm dwelling on pasts, pretend I'm having a blast
naw, scratch that last rap, send it back to the lab
all the attention I have, time to focus it here
breathe in deep, get my head open and clear
grab the pen, grit the teeth, write the rap, get it hot
it's happening, this is me, mic in hand, I never stop

tell the wizard to come out of his curtain
you and your songs are not the same person
we're tired of these, attempts at deception
contrived and conceived, impress with your message

I jotted it down, getting this off the ground
you got shot in the mouth but what are you talking about?
catastrophe is happening, it's upon us now
my heart's dark with thoughts of problems I've found
it's 2pacalypse now, where's Chris Wallace now?
their vision is missing in this monotonous sound
lost but it's found, now the message is back
intelligent rap, packed like breakfast at Stacks
carry cavalry, weapons is pen and a pad
snakes can't rattle me, I spit this venomous rap
with sentences that help replenish the craft
the way that it is is the way I'm telling it as
I'm dwelling on pasts, pretend I'm having a blast
naw, scratch that last rap, send it back to the lab
all the attention I have, time to focus it here
breathe in deep, get my head open and clear
grab the pen, grit the teeth, write the rap, get it hot
it's happening, this is me, mic in hand, I never stop

tell the wizard to come out of his curtain
you and your songs are not the same person
we're tired of these, attempts at deception
contrived and conceived, impress with your message

some see rap as a chance to cash in
with their standard, stand-up, throw your hands up anthems
formulas and fashions, iPods in action
imagine relaxing with my song blasting
battles aren't wars but I use Che's tactics
my passion's unfathomed like Catholics on acid
did that catch your eye like Passion of the Christ?
cos I'm going this alone just like Catcher in the Rye
tap into your mind, reaching for the deepest pieces
I'm the type of guy who thinks in rhyme but do you think with reason?
on the brink of genius, trying to outdrink collegiates
with reasons egregious that you choose to agree with
like preacher believers, your logic is flawed
there's no freedom at all without due process of law
this is moshpit raw, I write down and raise eyebrows
there's a felon in the White House searching third world hideouts
the archetype sound that leads new movements
music produced with two fists and a blueprint
the Crystal kid is ripping it, adrenaline is kicking in
his energy's ridiculous, think Icarus on Ritalin
don't stick on little things, your boy is poised and on topic
sort points from the context like coins in your pocket
so much noise in the nonsense, perfect change is uncommon
clean breaks take place in bungee cords and condoms
so do you follow your calling or best dollar options?
from cradles to coffins, we're raised while we're falling
close your eyes, hold your breath, grab the sheets, tense up tight
open wide, you overslept, it's not a dream, this is life

turn the lights up