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The moon tells me a secret, a confidant As full and bright as I am This light is not my own and Familiar light reflections pass over me The source is
译文: 工具. 反思.
weeping The moon tells me a secret, a confidant As full and bright as I am This light is not my own and Familiar light reflections pass over me The source
-runs For fear of what you show them, reality is golden Real recognize real, you need some IV's to be noticed though One of the coldest to mix pro-tools
up and show me someday I'll say you're vacant and maybe you're better off this way Leaning over you here cold and catatonic I catch a brief reflection
Talib Kweli: Yeah Hi Tek... Whom do we aspire to reflect on peoples death Who's entertainment shall we sing our agony of our hopes That the destroyers
N is the place where I stay The B-to-the-R-the-O-the-O-K Place where I rest is on my born day Bust it, sometimes I sit back and just reflect Watch the
dope Rob stores but I still gotta run from the law Twenty niggas in the clique How all of us pour In a three room apartment and we all on the floor I reflect
a bullet and begin to do the fool like I do that vatos mine To the night with a sight when I look the moon is full and get tool and look for my foe Got
jealousy I give a bullet and begin to do the fool like I do that vatos mine To the night with a sight when I look the moon is full and get tool and look
' forties, gettin' green on acres, these broads were our mules That's when we used to serve in front of Commonwealth School Fuel for cars and jewels, chains and tools
Beginning with the aftermath Sayers of sooth who stand aloof To hide their inner laugh Depending on the circumstance I show my tools to where niggers
wink at you from up high And talking fish comes as she moves I want to be like water and never need a doctor And carve the earth without my tools (Do
break my rusty cage, my rusty cage Watch the way I freak it when I bust my gauge ?Cause all that loud gun talk, it don?t mean squat If my tool gets
the same A chance to tell the crimes of the cruel A chance to wave the flag of the fool But the cross on your road is twisted And reflects an imageless tool
