ashes all fall down Heartless powers try to tell us what to think If the spirit's sleeping then the flesh is ink, yea History's page, it is thusly carved
show, women with pretty toes the dizziest ho's Then I turn romantic, write in sanscript I put on my vision that I see inside my pen Black-out is When
Ya'll know what time it is It's going out to all the gangsters, all the pimps, players, hoes and bitches Ya'll know what time it is So this what
'all know what time it is It's goin out to all the gangsters All the pimps and players, hoes and bitches Y'all know what time it is.. so this what I want
First page, "To my love, the first and last" A black and white photo from 1912 An image to remember from a forgotten past I turn the pages, the horror
till he come again Would it do, would it do any good To be able to remember the white of the page The black of the ink Thrown overboard lest the whole
he come again would it do would it do any good to be able to remember the white of the page the black of the ink thrown overboard lest the whole ship
pass away" They say sleep is the cousin of death, so my eyes wide open 'Cause a dream is kin to your last breath Russian an' this 40 ounce, lettin' the ink
like a faggot [Jus Allah] I came with the light and gave sight to the sages black ink contained to write truth on white pages [Ikon] you're sliced faceless
he's innocent And tell him that the tests we get are heaven-sent Listen, I rap for the ones that Johnny Cash wore, the black, for Black and white women
but I know how this will end, in apologies and ink on the page. A slowly constructed crow quilled confession of my spirit to all of you, black waterproof ink
regiment 10,000 niggaz marchin' to your residence Fuck the president and his red, white, and blue I never leave a clue with the shit that I do Sport the black
The ink is black The page is white Together we learn To read and write To read and write. The slate is black The chalk is white The words stand out So
Brooklyn Ya'll know what time it is It's going out to all the gangsters, all the pimps, players, hoes and bitches Ya'll know what time it is So this
flesh is ink. History's page, it is thusly carved in stone The future's here, we are it, we are on our own. If the game is lost then we're all the same