rejoice

Lyrics for rejoice

Moving forward, dearly beloved Make I and I recall Bob's son set in Babylon Atop the very high mountain Carving prophecy into rock Blood from a stone is the wickedest task Yet, rivers to flow, lyrics do grow And rise and rise to terrible, terrible proportions Stifling the weak heart, made they tremble But the dreadlocks say, fear not Stamp foot and flatten a raindrop For in Bob and his children's temple It is strictly reality we are dealing with Strictly reality, so rejoice Beepеr buzzing, semper fi cousins When in hot ovеns, et cetera, et cetera Wind chimes gone dummy Delirium, serious serum, celiacs, belly out, sippin' 'gnac, yacked, redacted Told Navel, "Strike that from the record" Quarter zips, meaning none to flip You know where the poets is Under some gutter, at the library At the café, at the ATM You know where the poets is At the perfume store, in the buffet line On a philosophical corner, drawing sevens in concrete You know where the poets is Off riding green horses, profaning the ineffable But never on purpose Lips pursed in verses, spitting juice like plums do Ooh, that ish delicious Yo, I croon like doo-wops You, you know this life is vicious And it seems, the only option is to cling To the mind that retains the faculty to dream And it seems, the only option is to cling To the mind that retains the faculty to dream In Duane Reade screaming, "I'm not the same me" Meaning soul graffiti bubblin' over Summer soldier, cut from the cloth of October Beat made from two metal cans Various spectrums of an evil parallelogram Could you see that? Would you bear my eyes? Rhetorical gestures that merit reply State communist verse the based abomunist Entrance fee is paying homage Patiently awaiting context White boys in my crew look Amish, honest And the negros is walkin' around talkin' 'bout NeoHooDoo Askin', "Who you?" Don't mention what you do for money Isn't that funny? Screw face, moot case I never demean the self with definition Exquisite sense of what's hitting That's kept me on this lonesome trail Sink or swell, I'm out to open sea Crooning, strumming, open C, no capo Coterie of lame-os skullduggery and baking soda volcanoes Laser eye like Kano So run up to get done up You looking like the corduroy coon's latest come up, psh "Welcome to my Rap Show", said the spider to the fly