Whoa, little buddy
You ain't got it yet
Still tripping
Need to snap out of that
Oh you in a trance
What you need a sound effect?
Or a real slap
Real slaps don't sound like that
Still living in a cloak
With your wisdom roped
Can't get your ducks in a row
And on a different note
Your pain is visible
Issues, with your physical
Your gifts are misused
Issues with your spiritual
Tie a rope around it
Could only try to bound it
But to bind it
Is blind it
Put junk behind it
Like a cellar door
You can do better more
Like release it
Unleash it
And be at ease with
Any turbulence
You know where the worry went
Toward the visual
Of getting where you
Need to be
See how we harness
Transmute the energy
Like a crucible
Oh we just removed the cloak
Whoa, little buddy
I think you got it
While i'm sleeping
I be making transactions
While i'm peeking
Through veils
Of another realm
New dimensions
This is not a color known
To perceptions
Processed in the human brain
Can't remember
There is no point of reference
Or mnemonic
The rhythm
Supersonic
San Francisco
Audium
Multiphonic
Try to mimic
The essence
Of my experience
With the blind eye
Looking through a fly's eye
Can you see it?
Possible
To perceive it?
Couldn't understand it
All i could do was be it
Oh we plugging in
Looking at another win
I see you in there
All them saints coming in
Tambourining
Cutting through the holy chatter
The whistle in the crystal
Said it wasn't matter