Bottle Of Humans

I've been so many places

In my life and time

Yes, I've sung a lot of songs

I've made some bad rhymes

Top of the world

Yet I aint never left my head to turn and look back

Every second page is anthem

Perfected writ mood

In the perfect world I set the perfect mood

And in perverted abodes, I claim rogue

Enflame clothes and sing songs of underdepression love

Chemical imbalanceship, paranoia

My scientist fiction, I kick space raps that's down to Earth and

The kids that get dubs are the only ones that wanna listen

My words are my world, believe it or not they mean a lot to some

Can't say that I'm ahead of time, I fear that my time will never come

Can't exist outside the bottle, you'll crack under pressure

No aggression, why they've got to learn,

if they don't things won't get any better

Listenin' to God burn objects of animal animating

in a still life picture of the La Brea tar pit

Walking the surface of my red carpet

These are distress signals spanning you and I

Inversatile if anyone here's a soul survivor of a dying civilization

A galaxy called integrity (In that belt called creativity)

But it's not a black corpse, snuffed by a cold world, I keep warm

By burning dead bodies smelling the beats and never cess

So, um, you can walk the streets until the building no longer remains

My people are my people, comrades, and allies, the lines are drawn

This is my gold tank, everywhere I go don't belong

I'm known by most, hated by many, endured by the rest

Police in dead skin, I'm so East,

well then why did I end up on the West???

Don't wanna sacrifice my cadence,

and sentence structure design of my rhymes, etc.

ANTICON, hip-hop music for th