sunrise the grind starts to make bank sun sets to drive home on an empty tank the in between just gets lost in puffing dank jean michel basquiat but i don t touch the paint 22 years here in the shell now and i ll admit that i crack the whip but i ain t even made half the shit i just sit back get high laugh and trip the baddest bitch keeps staring me right in my eyes and i m telling her i don t have the time she thinks that i m lying cause she never met one of my kind never been so real on my life all i do is the mic singing like the siren on an island the brook calling me to write it the face callin me inside it my whole story is a song now all the worry that would bog me down turned to courage like a godly crown now i journey for the godly sound it s beyond all the law you found the hole in my soul void in my mind drums gon feel all my cries the hole in my soul void in my mind drums gon feel all my cries there s no holes left for me to hide in a lion in sight with a hunger for zion i wonder at times what s behind all the science hear the words chase for a taste of silence pace through the wasteland blaze 28 grams wait for the fate to awaken up a caged man i was born by the beach in southern california grew up in la under the same sun icarus was born from an angel built the city up on one lung burned wings no teeth half a heart one beat but two feet sea walking like jesus over galilee seen the blood loves the bone you will cry when they leave the soul today we are the trees to grow tomorrow we are weeds to pull write the story i can see it all with my name painted on the wall an urban crow follows on my call and on a wire but i just don t fall 