Flxtch! - Saturday lyrics
Artist: Flxtch!
album: Chartreuse.
Praise, what's the deal son
Is it really real son, is it really real
Is it really real son, do you even feel son
Is it really real son, is it really real, forreal
While they were, driving the boat, I was, soul searching
Plotting on the come up, jotting poems from nostalgia
The magic reminiscent of street lamps, illuminate concrete
When me and my brothers ran the streets
A simpler time, redefining my serenity
Opening minds, third eye, kind of cloudy
I speak to divine, truth, raveling time, loose
Picking the world's fruit, just to break through
I sown seeds of Black Thoughts just to bless these Roots
Nappy Afro magic, wielding the, thunder of Zeus
Exfoliate the poison just to catch my groove
They can catch these hands, as I sing my zen
The content sounding like Baki standing in an arena
Palms full of sand in-sighting the next challenge
The next saga is in sight, so I take
Flight through the cloak and daggers, gather jewels while in the palace
Holy smokes and gee whiz, the kids got to live
Letting karma do its biz, the fears turned to spears
Reclaiming all my years, heir to the higher
No entry in my cipher, stop preaching to choirs
All praise go to the skies
Being fly when I'm blowing that haze up to the skies
Going thru the motions feeling unfazed and wonder why
In my spot ain't no way they could shake me out my shine
I see souls they lately been coming as rain clouds
Mentalities flooded up to a storm, no safe sound
I'm packing my umbrella don't need to be drenched up
Analogy might be lost behind ears all wet up
Catch up. Just some imagery play whether you like it or not
Weather if icy or hot, still nice if temperatures drop
Even when walking those miles, I still remember the stops
All toes, 10 on the block, became kin of the spots
Stay sick, was never cured, took no hints from the doc
I outlasted many men, wish me death from the opps
Gotta play it with some sense, handles best with the rock
Before it ends ain't no sense to get caught
Good grief, watch for how they speak
First to break your boundaries like its really hard to keep
Good lord, they will lie right out they teeth
Out here dry snitching when they hanging with they peeps
Is it really real son, do you even feel son
Is it really real son, is it really real, for real
Is it really real son, is it really real
Is it really real son, do you even feel son
Is it really real son, is it really real, forreal
While they were, driving the boat, I was, soul searching
Plotting on the come up, jotting poems from nostalgia
The magic reminiscent of street lamps, illuminate concrete
When me and my brothers ran the streets
A simpler time, redefining my serenity
Opening minds, third eye, kind of cloudy
I speak to divine, truth, raveling time, loose
Picking the world's fruit, just to break through
I sown seeds of Black Thoughts just to bless these Roots
Nappy Afro magic, wielding the, thunder of Zeus
Exfoliate the poison just to catch my groove
They can catch these hands, as I sing my zen
The content sounding like Baki standing in an arena
Palms full of sand in-sighting the next challenge
The next saga is in sight, so I take
Flight through the cloak and daggers, gather jewels while in the palace
Holy smokes and gee whiz, the kids got to live
Letting karma do its biz, the fears turned to spears
Reclaiming all my years, heir to the higher
No entry in my cipher, stop preaching to choirs
All praise go to the skies
Being fly when I'm blowing that haze up to the skies
Going thru the motions feeling unfazed and wonder why
In my spot ain't no way they could shake me out my shine
I see souls they lately been coming as rain clouds
Mentalities flooded up to a storm, no safe sound
I'm packing my umbrella don't need to be drenched up
Analogy might be lost behind ears all wet up
Catch up. Just some imagery play whether you like it or not
Weather if icy or hot, still nice if temperatures drop
Even when walking those miles, I still remember the stops
All toes, 10 on the block, became kin of the spots
Stay sick, was never cured, took no hints from the doc
I outlasted many men, wish me death from the opps
Gotta play it with some sense, handles best with the rock
Before it ends ain't no sense to get caught
Good grief, watch for how they speak
First to break your boundaries like its really hard to keep
Good lord, they will lie right out they teeth
Out here dry snitching when they hanging with they peeps
Is it really real son, do you even feel son
Is it really real son, is it really real, for real