The ground turns to paper, everything turns to sketches. A giant pen held by God up above then; won't tell the rest listen and enjoy! (Produced by: Erbal Minded Productions)
It's MicFloW a lyricist, dedicated to hip hop. dropping tracks for ears to listen.
-Location: Orlando, FL
Lyrics
his environement lonely it's him an his pad
is engaged in a page, his writtens is craft
is a sage an displays his wisdom an facts
an rhyming beholding him gifted at rap
he utalize his time, to write lines to verses
as wise mind disperses I define thy as perfect
while writing his rhymes, its fades existence
then shades envisioned by sorcerize of eyes
first earth in a second cursed; turning to sketches
the surface is paper; urge; emerges a question
cries "why earth converting and changing"
lurching an searching, a circuit; escaping
is only ambition, a groping decision
of closing his eyes, memory goes back
when dwelling in old shacks, and wrote up his lines
as holding a pencil; composing his mind
drawing of thyself, palming a mic; frail
pause; opens his eyes
and up in the sky, the thunder arrives
no, it's a big hand, floating wit pen clamped
it strikes he tries to hide; but the pen hits him
and he falls to the ground
Chorus 3x
a giant pen high in sky dives
and strikes by,right inside of skin
by this heavenly god, with a pen in his palm
and is sketching along, redesigning him
a slight change, light fade to tight braids
a height raise; 5'8, to fine traits
his wrinkly skin; then seams and begins
to turn to smooth; by the cross hatching
of a pen converged an used; by this god grasping
with strong elegant hands; for developing man
he redesigns his image, printed lines of giftness
in his mind he listens; to the mixture of thoughts
and it's giving this off, a silence know why? it's
cause pictures don't talk, then a bubble he draws
inside he writes this, "i'm puzzled; and lost
where do I go, where is the yellow brick road"
he flips the page then, begins to trace him
but instead of him still, he then sketches him kneel
another bubble he draws; this time he writes; is
"my rhymes is priceless, as he utters allah
I like to write and, there's nothing at all
for me to do, awe I scream to you; my life is lifeless,
without physical ability, to pursue my talent;
its miminal stability; yes I confess
i'll loose this challenge; cause not a day exciting
without a day of writing" he then engraving cursive
within this page of surface; "learn the science of mind
refine it to fine, and rise your memory size"
he then sketches a mic; and a Bible to read
a stage; a crowd; don't make a sound
shhhhh; all listen, finally the; cartoon is finished
the once motionless; behold him shift
then all existence then change, to original state
sound expired, crowd is quiet, now grips mic and
remeninscing his visions, it rewinds as recieved
then spits it as given, the line he released
goes like this "hides to tries he strikes it
now him redrawing, ground the to fall he"
try to reverse, "strikes he tries to hide
"he falls to the ground, redrawing him now"
cause him retrieving, just bits an pieces
he stutters and pause; up above him is god
he's holding a deck; and shuffles the cards
he chosen to spread, and whispers to pick
him instantly did; eye's shocked by sight
thy drops the mic; it's to be continued
Chorus 3x
a giant pen; high in sky dives
and strikes by; right inside of skin
by this heavenly god, with a pen in his palm
and is sketching along, redesigning him
