Babylon Suburbia - Playdough, BK & Associates

Now i must adjust and bust this with focus

Cuz i been in the wilderness eating honey and locust

So it feels good to have a real meal on my plate

Because for 40 some odd days i’ve been trying to get it straight

So the tread on my adidas has worn a little thin

Cuz i been on a journey trying to seperate from sin

And win the battles i lost for so long

So when i break free with victory i put it in my song

It’s been long awaited i’ve been spiritually sedated

Then i arose cuz i knows why i was created

With a destiny of my harmonics to be ill

So with walking stick in hand i boldly approach the hills

Of life, with confidence of rhyme that’s in store

And the evidence of things that’s unseen but hoped for

Cuz in the spirit i see what is to be it’s me

Still bound like a slave yet considered to be free

My ink’s leaving trails that i travel on

A narrow path thru suburbs of babylon

So bring it back to the rhythm i spawn

And bust a check 1,2 to watch the crowd respond

Riding on narrow paths thru babylon, living avion

That i suck on with gaviscon

For that emcee that gassed me thought he could surpass me

Was quick to take the challenge found there’s few that outlast me

So pass me my pen and mute the track for acapella

Not jay-z but still known to often rockafella

With vanilla scented incense, it’s burning like my sentence

I take a mic and turn tracks to results of intense

Or past tense cuz since it’s home is cemetary

Find a beat inside my sheet to substitute obituary

Cuz it’s harry krum and blake the cannon on produc

Add a playdough and you hearing red necks inside their truck

Bumping illness, i spill this on a page from my heart

I got a metranome internally to make a work of art

So i start to look back a emcees that’s killer

But reminded is my mind of b-boys that turned to pillars

My ink’s leaving trails that i travel on

A narrow path thru suburbs of babylon

So bring it back to the rhythm i spawn

And bust a check 1,2 to watch the crowd respond

A master of hip-hop and rhyme articulation

Trekking thru the desert dodging snakes of temptation

And pacing myself following clouds by day

And fire by night leading me to words i say

As i stay on the narrow way most of the time

And use the two humps on my camel to store my rhyme

With my mind concentrated on my flesh crucified

Representing tribes of ill that’s set apart and sanctified

My ink’s leaving trails that i travel on

A narrow path thru suburbs of babylon

So bring it back to the rhythm i spawn

And bust a check 1,2 to watch the crowd respond