I know you, scratch the light off of your name! Send me away on your whales. I know you……and when you plant your feet down you’ll become a stone statue. I grow tired of your simple name so next time you get the chance your life allow for it. (“self” into “Grow”) You’ll know now that your roots grow down ……and when you plant your feet down in the ground you’ll become a stone statue. (is that you?) I grow tired….so just like anything time keeps perfect archives….I grow tired of your simple name.

Alone in thought—quiet concentration Turning a stone over in your head A smile appears, he becomes confused Can he touch the lovely illusion? Several paths lie before him. He grows weary of decision.

What you say what will come over you beyond your control Once away, I will believe true, but I won’t turn and go Giving my heart away just to get knocked off my feet again I hear the words you say. But I cannot believe in them In you hair you predict worst just like you have before In you head you learn to fear a curse but I can’t let you after Giving my heart away just to get knocked off my feet again I hear the words you say. But I cannot believe in them You’re a liar Even right can be wrong given the chance

and that was back in the day when it didn't phase us to change places, the people stayed the same but they changed faces, and every chance we'd take cause mistakes were erased and replaced with a clean slate, it was back in the day, it was bullshit, it was great, before the cops had any say, just maw and paw, too long from the long arm of the law, but not for long, kids grow up right or wrong you move on and the road song gets a new verse then it moves on, eventually you get in trouble, somethings got to break that glass bubble, and there ain't no perfect sculpture, what most don't realize is, what shapes us is our vices, what makes life bliss is crying that was back when he had a future, when use to have a use to, before he lost his crew to recruiters and man they use to jam on there acoustics, but fuck the shit, i'm proud as shit that my boy's got the balls and dick to go fight and shit, and i remminense, when times were innocent, so full of immenense, no cigarettes, no friends were dead, just living like a stupid kid, and i wish i would have known what i had had at home, maybe that alone could have change my sould, but i really don't know, maybe the fact that i showed remmorse, could of changed the course of my life's force, but life's too short, too short to sport a knive, or sort through rhymes more, is an eye sore, to get wrapped in time more, or snap and cry more it's dangerous to stay in G-vegas, virus contagious, comes in stages, affected all ages, in cases keeps you locked up in cages, days just fade to ages, and cases lost to racist faces, misplaced the hate and now your angered with gauges, your rage is conyed in the way that you play us, you'd rather hang us than thank us, the games in need of some changes, the degree that it ranges, in need of some gangsters, trade us traitors for major-rankers and our freedom will tame us