Idols
The world is your instrument
These are the lyrics
Don’t fight the logic it’s science; it’s physics, it’s already written in the hypothesis
Loving the criticism because the ones we love are our critics
I knew we were trouble when we first met…My broken heart is caused by myself.
His problems outweigh him; he’s driving himself crazy. He’s doing free weights flying through the freeway.
Freelancing his feelings with his mind and body trapped so he’s doing all he can to break out and become free. People worship these idols till they come into contact with Gods. Think it’s time for a revolution. I’m about to start a riot. He’s about to go on a free-for-all, real life gameplay; yes he’s in his war zone, he’s the lieutenant, captain and pilot. So he’s in charge, about to start demonstrating his feelings.
I’m not telling you how to feel I’m telling you what to feel and no that’s not a double negative
That’s a triple. A triple jump like triple H met John Edwards and now throws you into a mosh pit
Which smells like an armpit sprayed on with onion with a sprinkle of garlic.
Now he’s crying because he can’t see his reflection, it’s fight night and he’s lost his sight punching his own eye losing the battle of finding out who he really is
But his dark shadows have gone for a while and he breaks a smile, oh they’re tears of joy, excuse him as he bobs and weaves to take care of his stitch
You follow all that I say because you’re poor and I make you feel rich
I control how you’ll live your life because in advance to brushing your teeth you read my synopsis
I tell you what to buy and how to use it
I tell you not to buy things you don’t need but I make money off of my merchandising
To you I am a dark knight who protects you all day because I carry you through your demise and help you plan your uprising
In your world the sun is never shining but I am your silver lining embroidered on the umbrella which keeps you floating
You want to be me and I am Mary Poppins
You dislike her because you could never say let alone spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
But you like the idea that I could provide you with a spoon full of sugar as well as an idea for what you should want under your stockings
He’ll be lucky to get a fruit basket. And all he wants to do is drop the science like Galileo dropped the orange
But he needs to grow a pear and get some goggles because…
Every time you start to think you start wondering if I would think the same thing
You’re not sane, bane or Blaine so stop trying to broaden your back or learn magic tricks
Just start broadening your horizon on topics that involve me
I got you through the rough patch I helped you become funny
Martin Payne got him through his pain, turned him from insane to learning his own name. Which is ironic with the amount of time he witnessed character change.
The changes were for the better because he’s gone from broken to
breaking out of this delirious, dilution, trying to make his own pimp chronicle but his mind frames framed on an embarrassing video tape as well as being on a canvas hung up on the wall of shame, titled ‘Laugh At His Pain’ but now he can see clear as the story hits full beam
You don’t need nobody else, I’m turning green because I’m sick of you and Because I’m intelligent, you’re stupid and I can feel your envy
Stop brushing me off your shoulders
Forget you you’ll never be me when you’re older
The irrelevance lost the battle because now he’s sober
And he’s not afraid to say This is his recovery, stepping over his relapse, as he climbs over his bumps he’s much better.
Not afraid as he lays oil on his trail sets it alight adds some coal and jumps on a Train which takes him to happily ever after
Bad meets Evil, he’s living in hell hoping there’s no sequel.
But his aspirations have led him to graduation, to college dropout. Not sure which route to take. For now he’ll just stay lost in the world, and fight his beautiful dark twisted fantasy.
Right now stronger gets him through but for how long will somebody else’s recovery help him recover as he limps through the dark nights.
He feels like he’s about to end his life trying to see what he wants to do for the rest of his life
He’s Much colder and much more able and capable, he’s in a marching band but now roles as a lone soldier
He’s a supernova pretending to have fun in a world where he doesn’t belong but one day he’ll get his spaceship as he’s edging closer to the equaliser
He’s one-on-one on goal about to assassinate the stopper
He’s passed his training day and now has bigger goals
He’s prioritised what he needs and his life’s next chapter’s going to be titled ‘Being Especial’. This is his bitter sweet poetry, with no dessert as he deserts his thoughts in search of a cherry on top of the empire that he’ll reach even if it’s the death of him
So no need to call the coroner the only death today ended in reincarnation, through a body being rehabilitated. Because now you look around you and everything is colourful and you look in the mirror and you see an individual. Sometimes it takes you going forward to look back and admire something admirable.
And his admiration was always an oxymoron, with his feelings of wanting to be an admiral. He was no moron. He feels like he’s the one. Because to him God gives the hardest battles to his toughest soldiers. And if he puts the Quran in front of him he’ll be steered into the right direction And he manages to keep himself together with his soul taped no matter the encounter.
Fabulous thoughts with dreams to unfold, Friday Night lights were the lights which pointed him in the direction of going after something worth chasing. That helped him raise his expectation and his mind started elevating.
So what I’m trying to say is I was always a good kid in a mad city,
Who was a school boy trying to be hard as a rock listening to bad boys living lives of joy making me full of envy.
But no biggie I heard the story backwards so the next chapter was titled ‘Section 80’.
Now in search for my English lane
He’s trying to put pot holes in the game like De La Soul
On a road of land mines hoping I blow up in time. This is my c4 ready to be released.
That road led me to find courage and heart, this music didn’t need a harp or beans for me to see the giant steps of wisdom. Instead they arched me into the sky and relaid my foundation of needing to be overly dedicated; and in turn have the dedication.
Now I see clearly and I appreciate his art. Now I see clearly on what really is my path.
His lyrical genius has become my inspiration.
But I hope the passing of the torch highlights the fire within me ready to burn. I am not ill, I’m ill-minded with a firm grip on logic and a set mind on needing to demonstrate my A to Z’s and that basically means my P’s and Q’s hoping you appreciate them like a word found in alphabet soup because it is only then that you’ll see that I am trying to be all I can be and in turn try to build the courage to show it was written.
No conspiracy, my fate is inevitable. They’ll start playing scrabble when I’m up on that pedestal
For me to write off and overcome my objections.
So I sign off with hopes of a sign which will help me across this cold line of individuality.
And if I don’t make it back a successful man. I’d at least be a stronger man, who can now see himself as himself, who thinks for himself. And in turn sees things more clearly.
So somebody give me a hand with this hand I’m dealt, I see a king on the helm ready to die, I was born in 94 he died in 95 that’s iconic not ironic and I’m hoping to show I have a purpose, so somebody tell them to watch the throne, because I’ve thrown my insecurities away, as I see what awaits me if I continue to act or not act in fact I need to state the fact that I need to react and the reaction is this hand folding, getting off the table. But I’m showing I’m not slowing, this is me in fear but not loathing, hunted by my passion. But it’s locked away without being exposed. So this is me silently exploding.
I can’t believe I’ve found a desire for true love in my soul
Inside my soul my soul deserves to be cold, but the other half needs affection and joy the kind that’s created by acknowledgement and recognition. I need love. And I want them to say he was last seen wearing black with a fitted cap, now he’s wearing white because he’s clean and has no need to act. But when they hear me I want them to react with, ‘He’s bad’.
This is my attempt to put flava in ya ear
Now he’s got the munchies Hoping to be like Bam Bam eating through my competition, with a stamp of manhood below my back. Or even kicking it down like Van Damme, damn I guess the mood’s changed. Because now I’m In the mood to say this was my calling.
So it’s stand for something or die in the morning
So before they start mourning I’ll do all I can to truly be happy.