Slow Mode -

Round like a circle in a spiral

Like a wheel within a wheel

Never ending nor beginning

On an ever spinning reel

Like a snowball down a mountain

Or a carnival balloon

Like a carousel that’s turning

Running rings around the moon

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping

Past the minutes of its face

And the world is like an apple

Whirling silently in space

Like the circles that you find

In the windmills of your mind

I shatter molds when my data’s thrown

Contagious, I pass it on to others

Create some kind of high that doesn’t ever low

So if you listen to it, cool!

If not, then keep it moving

Cause I’m feeling good off what I do and I don’t wanna ruin this mood

I’m over it!

I got my own pair of speakers

Hitting hard enough to smoke you out from being in the room

Things have changed, I still bring it in

And keep a swing like I’ve been drinking more than what I can

You, may not believe it ‘till you see me going wild

That I don’t make it look as though to flow is difficult to crowds true

I’m lifted with the ism, quick to spot a downer

Out to put their cloudy thoughts into my sky that doesn’t have them

Twisted, laughing at the mess, I got myself into another jam

As funky as who said he’s proud to be his color

Take a ride with me, live emcee, drama in the wind

I go by many names such as, ‘who the fuck he think he is', I’m in…

Slow mode!

I was racing at a fast pace.

Oh!

no, I was running on a wheel, like

Where did this come from?

There’s never enough done!

I must be in love again to see as clear as let it go!

Let it go on anymore, who I am and what I’m not

Caught in how, how much things aren’t the way that I had ever thought

Slow mode!

I was racing at a fast pace.

Oh!

no, I was running on a wheel, like

Where did this come from?

There’s never enough done!

I must be in love again to see as clear as, let it go!

The ‘let me do my thing' material I kick is not restricted

Pick another way to front.

It’s nothing to me when I’m lifted

Another jam for underground heads is what I am

The musical discoveries, I find, rewind and tell a friend to put their hands up!

Don’t act like they’re in handcuffs and dig it!

Cause there’s no need to spill your guts around this blunt I’ve written

It’ll all be over soon, we’re the group that’s coming up

But not until we make the kids who say they love us, say we suck

Thanks for noticing!

I’m vocal overdosing rhymes critiqued, and with plenty that I feel

As much as cripples do their feet

Celebrate and laugh every track, the fact we made it further

To reflect on what we had to do to get to where were at

Taking the motivation from a show when only few were there to see us

Yeah, you best believe it keeps me in the lab.

This is how I live:

Open arms, paradise in every song, with the ease of a tropical beach

On microphones, higher than I’ve ever gone, feet in the sand

As if the summer breeze wants me to know that it’s there.

I’m in…

I’m fun loving, underneath the creature stirring from the hurdles

And turning the world into a track and field without a break

When you’re without a deal, you have to grind it out and keep promoting

Undiscovered’s been too much for me to take!

It’s as if I’m pushing buttons like a drum machine on ones I’ve never met

Who hear me rhyme and size me up with budgets that they’re working with

And what I’ve been through is no comparison to overcoming

What it would have done, unless I hadn’t let it take me under

Don’t even try to guilt trip, I was born and raised Catholic;

That’s turning people into things that no one had imagined

Could use a raise!

Either way, another classic album

Has a margarita taste while on vacation, type of power

Rock on!

To the beat box boogie to drop, whether Hip Hop’s ready or not!

You can get back to me!

I’m hot, and I mean that fully, no hurry

Cause it won’t stop me from the top.

I’ll survive and blow up the spot

With a rhyme I’m holding, that’s in control of your motor a lot

The engine revving, as if it wants to be competitive

Isn’t the only way that I can ride an instrumental that knocks;

‘Till it lifts your feet out from your socks, and your breathing patterns are

like

Fleeing the scene from the cops!

I’m getting props forever

The record stores don’t have us in stock, but you can hear us down the street

From the cars on your block, while in…