The secrets of the universe spelled out in a very plain language, Pa and Ptah's
I don't believe I'm god, I know I'm god rhetoric of the gospel according to the hollywood story
as decoded by the war on herbs and delusions of grandeur and on purpose; they wanna be with it,
they wanna live the black/
entertainer's half-habit myth with us as props and heroes and this costs them tempo, Pert Em Hru/
and again, and so-and-so Pa pa pa pa, ptah, ptah, ptah got the idea like a gun fight on the news and gave it to the nigga you ain't abstract blues, where it turned licorice purple on the drift
The typical illusion is that it feels black to be black; 8 bars and a plastic heart/surgeon later, a slave to the surge, you are my starship; you are my starship, what color is this blaze
