Текст песни The Only Constant - Illogic feat. Blueprint
Everything
changes,
we
stray
from
the
predictable,
Towards
our
own
destiny
built
upon
original
concepts
to
listen
to,
Two
ill
individuals
born
to
score.
[Repeat]
I'm
stuck
between
the
mic
and
hard
place,
(Battling)
with
space
time
continuum
for
control
of
my
destiny
(Traveling)
goes
through
in
your
windows
in
lethargy
(Hardly)
noticing
I've
been
waiting
for
that
stop
sign
to
change
green
(Pardon
me)
may
I
borrow
a
spoonful
of
sugar
to
help
my
medicine
stay
down?
(Drown)
my
problems
in
weed,
smoke
to
alter
reality.
(Found)
a
way
to
stay
on
top
of
things,
use
my
eagle
as
a
stepladder,
(Sounds)
fool
proof
cos
no
fool
has
the
balls
to
make
the
steps
shatter.
(Sound)
this
image
in
memory,
brush
strokes
of
symmetry,
With
masses
in
alientation
conquered
an
amenity
Stand
as
a
friend
to
me
then
instantly
stretch
words
across
tracks
and
distaste
in
my
act
to
explore
rap
without
understanding
the
facts.
Simply
I'm
sick
of
humans.
I
only
answer
to
an
angel,
So
the
rest
of
you
can
deep-throat
the
shaft
of
which
you
dangle.
I
don't
mean
to
be
lude,
but
they're
just
constantly
under
my
skin,
Then
again
when
I'm
open,
I
usually
invite
'em
in.
Though
we're
on
a
different
page,
I
bless
the
stage
after
I
vomit,
My
time
is
soon
to
come
'cause
change
is
the
only
constant.
Everything
changes,
we
stray
from
the
predictable,
Towards
our
own
destiny
built
upon
original
concepts
to
listen
to,
Two
ill
individuals
born
to
score.
[Repeat]
I
bask
in
time
shadow
on
a
bed
of
orange
and
amber
leaves
once
emerald,
Hearing
echoes
of
chalk
outlines
ringing
my
lobes,
Rhythmic
break-beats
bang
on
eardrums
as
life
unfolds.
'Cause
I'm
no
longer
a
man
of
yesterday,
but
of
tomorrow.
Heart
pumping
blue
liquid
life,
so
drown
in
your
sweet
sorrow.
Legs
dance
offbeat
on
tables
And
presence
of
enemies
requesting
serenity
without
these
or
disease
remedies,
Curing
purity
and
defense
of
the
passive.
As
the
one
telling
the
story
I
have
the
right
to
ad-lib.
It's
called
change,
Illogic
always
against
the
grain,
It's
called
strange,
and
I'm
aware
that
there's
hell
on
earth,
it's
called
fame.
Aim
at
your
consciousnesses
for
a
metamorphosis
From
the
instant
gratification
hares
to
the
patience
of
tortoises
Rest
in
tranquility,
you
now
embody
the
brilliance
to
comets,
Your
time
is
soon
to
come
because
time
is
the
only
constant.
Everything
changes,
we
stray
from
the
predictable,
Towards
our
own
destiny
built
upon
original
concepts
to
listen
to,
Two
ill
individuals
born
to
score.
[Repeat]
Born
to
score.
Born
to
score.
Every
time,
Every
rhyme,
Illogic,
Blue
Print
on
the
tracks.
Born
to
score,
born
to
score.
(oh
yeah)
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