3 melancholy gypsys – the plannit lyrics
rest my legs off
worlds my easel
i handle it
gods my mind state
infinitive arts my climate (x2)
my brigade wont be swayed or made to be afraid head high hearts righteous men done parade
stood silent in the shadows steady building up my rage
and it’s too late to counter once the move has been made
like eregon call them ghosts off the ship
we gon slide through your city start tearing up sh-t
destroying ring wraiths that bring fake hymns singing priases to these demons named cash & gems
we smash with pens
and flash grim grins
as we administer a sinister fate to men
who have transgressed and refuse to transcend the confines of the state of mind they’re in
the path has been laid the gauntlet thrown down the power so potent we’re not playing with pr-nouns
it’s like a healing potion when the poetrys put down
elixer that’s a mixture of this word and this verb
combined in my mind until it’s stirred
brain left scrambled
so they label me disturbed
tray in your face get it straight we can’t get served
orel mursheiser on the mound with a sick curve
thoughts thrown swift so your vision might get blurred
get gone of go home
i’m headed for the rim gonna claim a gold throne
so hold on or come along if you feel this
but on this journey you will encounter some realness
there’s drama, there’s pain, there’s death, there’s illness
but 3mgenerals will lead individuals to a positive called change
give your confidence in the rain
bring you tolerance for the pain
i’m polish this insane
so when you play this song and recite this rhyme
you open up your heart and your soul starts to shine
for the journey is the struggle
but the movement is divine
my category of conscience
tag on the sands of the desert with a redwood,
then i carve on the carc-ss
i’m a sould child.
earth is my canvas. took a bath in the ocean
and forever sunk atlantis, my bad.
sky writing with a cloud c-mulus calculate on my pad.
rocking a thunderbolt on my back
bullet train full of ink when i think
multiple islands. smiling lightning bolt from the west.
testing my terminology speaking to god in tounge.
well hung thought pattern.
i germinate when i contemplate
when i take steps to become a man.
stand at full attention, the sun is my captain.
light of my fire.
air in my tires.
siren for firing off morning glory.
horror stories tell the tale of reality in my sector.
a fallacy is to disrespect the easel that i sketch on
cancerous cannibals eat my painting while i drive my brush.
touching up every area missing color.
color coordinated, discovering other combinations. i hover
in a hemispherical cloud of g-sses far above the planet,
my stepping stone.
planets are my medium.
range of motion is extra large.
travel the earth: i’m a man on my feet with a beat in my heart.
i’m a carnaval freak with a key to the city of light: the heavens above
inside my cranial crevices evidence pouring out when i peak as a poet, unique
and a speaker of truth.
strictly between me and you
god and monster ride my rhythms to the sunset back and forth with such emotion,
to create and cultivate this cuture clash to multiply.
colorful codes unveiled.
breath through flows exhale.
my bones are constructed,
made from the same substance
that’s of other mens skeletons,
same marrow within.
it’s the trials that,
chase feet invent,
why i lead while most follow the trends
and make mice of men.
i’m a hitchhikers tour guide,
i hijack and joyride,
take it to the outer limits,
further than the far side,
rest my legs of the ledge of the planet like construction breaking for lunch on sky scr-per scaffoldings.
cat walk or sit on the rim,
swinging like pendulum,
living on the edge star gazing at gems,
and watch the conscellations correspond,
like the superstars that they are,
and fade out at the break of dawn.
breath taking while taking in breath is a cylcle and i sigh like the wind.
my daily saga begins,
in a world of sin
i sincerly recite these hymns,
and you feel the sensation circling in ya limbs,
yo whatever you do,
there’s always somebody better
gypsys them somebodys that got you sounding whatever.
ever what sound you got, got to be sounding better with knock.
i’m hard of hearing,
skills are like decibels,
turn it up a notch.
or else you suck and see it off like car alarms.
why even bother to warn.
i suck at my teeth like a texan.
set it off like car bombs,
detonating in the business of intersections.
you need to find me.
i’ll find you first,
man or myth:
ya thoughts shift back with every verse.