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    [uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's intro]

    I had forgotten the incredible butter softness of his long fingers.

    How they felt on my back when he slow-dragged with me,

    at a fateful "Blue Lights in the Basement" party.

    The dim lights making his honey-colored eyes barely visible as he,

    FLASHED A PENLIGHT IN MY EYES!

    "Look directly into the light this time."

    [Aceyalone]

    I say look into the light

    See what you look like

    [Chorus]

    I scribble on a clean surface, the earthless and worthless {*echoes*

    It's life, at the tunnel of the point of purchase {*echoes*

    Aiyyo freedom got a microphone, AND a AK {*echoes*

    Make way, and prepare for the melee {*echoes*

    [Aceyalone]

    The microphone magic of Aceyalone

    The method of my madness could NEVER be known

    Don't, try to set home or off of the dome

    Because wigs are known to be SPLIT

    And a, fan is known to be hit with shit

    Rubber band flows that snap back in place

    Rap in they face, get this motherfucker outta here

    He talks way way way WAY too much

    Spit for the victory, 'til they sick of me

    I never wallow in the bickery or trickery

    There's no con-FUSION, just the FUSION

    No il-LUSION, cause God rule them

    Held high, nailed in the sky

    The artistic eye leaves you mystified

    You're once denied, soon openly obliged

    [Chorus]

    [Aceyalone]

    They say, "rock you don't stop" but what you talkin bout

    Well let me guess, you come fi test

    But test not he who knows best, put nonsense to rest

    Preachin on a soapbox, dope on the block

    Choke on your tongue, smoke from the gun

    Broke in the middle, I hope you're havin fun

    HIGH post, high dose, high strung

    Wind through the lungs, spirit of the young

    Salt on the slug, caught with the plug

    Fought with the drugs, taught by the thugs

    Eye of a tiger, head of a lion

    Walkin through the interior of Siberia

    Chip away at the rock, or a dynamite block

    Right where they had to stop, we continue

    Think the worst, ink into the verse

    Sink into the earth, die by the end of the rhyme

    What a rush, too much to discuss

    I close it up by sayin this

    [Chorus]

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