Light Switch

Yeah
Left to my own devices
Grand

Left to my own devices
These are the products you are guaranteed
My lyrics are a mix of psilocybin's and diazepines
I settle that fix and then proceed to give 'em what they need
Layer upon layer of that lethal dosage
Spraying bleach upon your Bose's
When I speak corrosive
'Til I reach a point of focus
Like deep hypnosis
Applying pressure 'til it's more than most
Beats will cope with
No debating needed
Listening's akin
To placing your fist within
A nest of vipers
Dead precise how
I bless this mic with
More certain than my lefts and rights is
I take flight
And drop lyrics off and on again like it's a light switch

But reaching these objectives
Will require my dependence on a higher learning
Equally and simultaneous
Is my reliance on a second nature
Only built up out of guts and instinct
My mind's sharp enough to cut and slice through
Atmosphere's thicker than a row of tyres burnings
I'm tying loose ends, compartmentalizing
Shutting out that external noise
Until I reach my best
Until I prove my theory present and correct
I'm hanging new canary cages up
In poisonous and narrow spaces
Mining for the undiscovered gems that you lack
Vitamins and minerals
And fuck who I offend
The fruit that I am bearing
Will originate from olive branches
But it stems from a difficult
And a bitter process
So recognise I'm speaking from a distance
Still approaching the door

Motivational speech
Building knowledge from the origins
Like etymologists
First five-percent nations
Or them ancient Greeks
In all glory
Still recording from this attic
But the fact remains
I'm only reporting from a place beneath
Within them gaps
Spaces in between
You will find the essence of these like-minded messengers
I Flash Melle this message up
In the form of broken glass
Sledgehammer to these walls 'til I've broken past
Speaking for the ones who thirst like an empty flask
I burst from the empty page
With prose I'm Hemingways
Or Ismael Reed, my pen bleeds
I just grew from this dark voyage
Like I'm Jean Rhys
Notes from the Underground, Fyodor
And Hov taught me always leave a gap when you see a door
Clean cut, my aroma's like Persil
Reading Virgil, box fresh's on my feet are Virgil
Still time to get my house in order
Before the bloke with sickle and cloak
Gives the call up
Moving quotes and getting closer to what's important
Neil Macaulay, I'm switching coasts, hitting borders

Started with a point to prove
And now my point's proven
I'm switching my point of view
I dot and dash the track like a pointillist
'Til the bigger picture's
Only vista'd when you keep your distance