Do you sense the bubblin'
Your insides tremblin'
The slow uprising creepin' in
Passion without a reason
Hands out, easy to lean on
Actually nothing more than a beacon for treason
The feeling you been on
So comfy you keep on dreaming on
Ha, but nothing there to see son
Just a pen you wave around, a good peon
All the time you wish
You wouldn't be wallowing on your weighing on jibberish
Jabs the jay you just long to be
Impervious to the mere whimsicality
Of some ill placed eerie mind
In hindsight, It was just an eary kind
You was aiming to find
Holding out on yourself
You gaze upon that empty shelf
And can't help but grind your teeth, make 'em scream
Feel the heat build up, aiming to burn your scheme
That one day you'll side stream
Kunta, without demeaning people esteem
And hope it ain't another wet dream
Tired of dreading another wet dream
Petrified by the scene
Yet convinced that potentially
You'll Charlie that trolley across the valley
To stroll out of your routine
And riot
Not prepared for the game, not ready for fame
The foolish thought
That talent can be bought
But never fought the the will to jot down the shots that spur in your clotted mind
Tears, sweat and blood, you're backwards, crippled by your fears
Just riot
Passion without reason is all you need to parade on
No place here for worry, no claims of glory
Just go with the flow, let it go, push the door
Dissect rhymes, identify the atoms
Implode words, reveal your characters
The roadmap is set but you can see the scribbles
So many lines crossing in the distance
Infinity never felt so real
The strength, the appeal
Paper's dry but waiting on no eraser, just one more layer
Hoping to stick and soak deep
Has that sheet always been that steep?
The final answer is the riot
The Time is now
There's no postponing this riot
No time to bow
Let the world get ready for this excruciating violence
Forget concepts of balance but keep steady crush silence with diligence
But don't riot against, brother, riot for
For the futility of the act will bear meaning from the inside
A small step for the game, fact, for the boy a big stride
But as your eyes swirl for half a seven twenty
No end to meet, no lies, no one to claim that bounty
Makes its way the realization that the one may well be the many
And that time whiles away them riots ever so daily
Misconceptions of loneliness
Seldom synonymous of absence of this stress
That sneaks to lure and latch
On illusions, the desire
To squint your eyes and scratch
The solist voice in fact a choir