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Correct Scribble On A Clean Surface Lyrics
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Artists: A
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Aceyalone
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Correct Scribble On A Clean Surface
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Lyrics:
[Uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's intro] I had forgotten the incredible butter softness of his long fingers How they felt on my back when he slow-dragged with me At a fateful "Blue Lights in the Basement" party The dim lights making his honey-colored eyes barely visible as he Flashed a penlight in my eyes! "Look directly into the light this time." [Aceyalone] I say look into the light See what you look like [Hook] I scribble on a clean surface, the earthless and worthless {*echoes*} It's life, at the tunnel of the point of purchase {*echoes*} Aiyyo freedom got a microphone, and a ak {*echoes*} Make way, and prepare for the melee {*echoes*} [Aceyalone] The microphone magic of Aceyalone The method of my madness could never be known Don't, try to set home or off of the dome Because wigs are known to be split And a, fan is known to be hit with shit Rubber band flows that snap back in place Rap in they face, get this motherfucker outta here He talks way way way way too much Spit for the victory, 'til they sick of me I never wallow in the bickery or trickery There's no con-Fusion, just the fusion No il-Lusion, cause God rule them Held high, nailed in the sky The artistic eye leaves you mystified You're once denied, soon openly obliged [Hook] [Aceyalone] They say, "rock you don't stop" but what you talkin bout Well let me guess, you come fi test But test not he who knows best, put nonsense to rest Preachin on a soapbox, dope on the block Choke on your tongue, smoke from the gun Broke in the middle, I hope you're havin fun High post, high dose, high strung Wind through the lungs, spirit of the young Salt on the slug, caught with the plug Fought with the drugs, taught by the thugs Eye of a tiger, head of a lion Walkin through the interior of Siberia Chip away at the rock, or a dynamite block Right where they had to stop, we continue Think the worst, ink into the verse Sink into the earth, die by the end of the rhyme What a rush, too much to discuss I close it up by sayin this [Hook]
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