Текст песни Line Jumpers - Teknical Development.is

Blast the verse and feel this raw power
Life in the word, growth in the rhyme
Spill the waters in the dark on purpose
Drawn the unwanted, split the path no life savers
Favour for a favour fuck your conversation
Torment from the whispers
Trap your soul like the light tryna run from the dark
Pointless power in your vessel, face the ugly
A simple beauty to the neighbours of this mental war
Focus mode when half time comes
Half the 8, yo we left with the 4
Live from the third,, explain it no steps
Was the value of your joy when the ink flows
Just another poet love to express
No more, no less, write for the self and the other
Who cares to listen
Fuck who made what, produced this or that
The scene so dead, the same old same when there's money to gain
What's more pure, no hands held with the other side
Frame another still picture
Lost in the fold, trapped within the corner
Can't move stuck, same old same, poisonous mould
Nothing is clear, to many voices
Violence is near, don't cry for me
Lost in the fold, trapped within the corner
Can't move stuck, same old same, poisonous mould
Nothing is clear, to many voices
Violence is near, don't cry for me
Another circle, yo another cypher, vibe with me
Yo walk with me
The mental plains of life
People stuck broken foundations with no hope
They rather know there's a better tomorrow
If not no fears in shade of suicidal exploration
Patience's is none, no fun in expression
Let's talk about what you don't see
Beyond the presentation of what's given sits the true self
The ones who pulls the strings
Tek cut chords, I cut your ties
Or pass you the rope, yo either way the help in hand is near
Basic instincts outta control
Proceed in the jewel of the demon in you
Face the truth, what is
Blessed by the hidden word, spoken death
Fear the words spoke with the intent
No more fuckery, sometimes the answers clear as day
So much easier to remove the self
Work out equations and start to progress
What's your life worth?
Lost in the fold, trapped within the corner
Can't move stuck, same old same, poisonous mould
Nothing is clear, to many voices
Violence is near, don't cry for me
Lost in the fold, trapped within the corner
Can't move stuck, same old same, poisonous mould
Nothing is clear, to many voices
Violence is near, don't cry for me