I find purpose on this earth spitting verses
urgent to the urchins searching for worth
purging the poison peddled since birth.
Hoisting hearths shoulder bound,
Bergeran weight in tow,
Holding down the broken mold provocateur sound.
Hauking this mockumentary entity seen as everything
for an active reinactment of happiness, living spark kindling.
Dwindling the spin sadly separating generations,
races, species, denominations and political affiliations.
The ancient communicative key is rumored to be
embedded genetically in you, me, plant-life, and creatures of the sea alike.
I choose to see true delight in unity but the powers that be
really love a good fight and a reason to flex their might.
I know it’s flight or fight,
But don’t let’m blow out your pilot light.
They don’t want you high on life
Or with time to ride your bike.
Some blame tradition while I follow my intuition,
Collision clash course figure shit out through poetry meditation and rhythm.
The mass force contorts at will and aborts the fill of iller than run of the mill ink and
quill tactic masters.
Why do they always want the watered down, carbon copy corny bastards.
See we outlast the actors, agile and adaptive holding the status quo captive until
what we know as dope becomes average.
We’ll continue to expose those irritable conspirators
Never passive, always peaceful to a point,
Watch for that double speak evil,
In the name of change, just to stay worse then the same,
Been breeding ignorance since agriculturist Cane slayed his way up into the game.
I know it’s flight or fight,
But don’t let’m blow out your pilot light.
They don’t want you high on life
Or with time to ride your bike.
credits
from Language Of The Heart,
released March 26, 2013
Lyrics- Alex Argot // Music- Rich Courage
São Paulo rapper pairs airtight, ultra-rhythmic bars with well-rounded beats influenced by techno, jazz, trap, drum & bass, and samba. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 6, 2023
