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07-09-02, 01:57 AM | #1 | |
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"INK BLOTS" collab wit PHRANTIK
IP:
OK ME AND PHRANTIK DID A COLLAB ABOUT WAT WE BOTH THOUGHT WHEN WE USED THE TERM 'INK BLOTS'
REAL DEEP STUFF ALSO IF U DON'T MIND LET US KNOW WAT U THINK WHEN 'INK BLOTS' IZ SAID MY VERSE Ink Blots on my paper while i'm contemplatin my lyrics in deep thought// I write them intensely cuz i'm caught up, so i just can't jot// Somedayz i recall writin extroadonary pieces only to remember the ink blots changed 'em up// This metaphorical anointment haz me freqently rhymin comotions// My message constanly sent but wat never got their waz the annotion// People jaded from the absence of my lyrical potion// But on the contrary my rhymes are the opposite of arbitrary// These ink blots are inordinary// Extroadinary// Like a censor, just altered out of nowhere// Instead of my message sayin go there its come here// These ink blots are my fear// Lead me to tears for years, i try and put it back in the rear// Of my mind, These ink blots y does it have to happen to mine// With out them I could do just fine// If not better// I'd love to execute and just be-head-her// But it was my beatiful mind that fed her// Its almost like these aren't my rhymes, its co-ownership// There is 2 artists in my head like I'm dicentric// PHRANTIK'S VERSE Obsessed thoughts of war and peace, of happieness and sorrow / My mind is racin with so many ideas I wont finsh them til tomorrow / So choose one, I must, throught boom and bust, pic one to write my rhyme / I keep on thinking not noticing that ive become a victim of time / The clock tics by faster and faster, and im trapped in its world / Some many things happening at once my head has already twirled / Around in circles I chase my thoughts thinking of what to write / I sit and I think with my pen sittin still all through the night / Its seems to be 9 pm, but it already it is 3/ And I sit and think over about what my rhyme will be / And finally Im hit with an idea, the light goes off in my head / To sit and write about how time flys and how soon I will be dead / Another few years my life will pass, ans I will be buried down deep / How in a few years my heart will stop and ill be left to sleep / The ink starts pourin, rippin the paper dyin it an inky blue / Spillin ill rhymes about how time made a victim of us two / We rush through life not savouring it, we should enjoy every day / Write down or thoughts, and describe our world and not let it slip away / Make ink blots with our wonderful thoughts write everything down in a book / So when the time comes and your ready to pass, you can open it up and look / You've faced the joys and depressions and how they've helped you grow / And how the pen you hold in your hand has tought you all you know / |
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