this holy solar cataclysm blanketing my vision depth
is wrangling my senses in a deprivation tank derision
step into the sanctum of 'it isn't what it might appear'
where bent prisms reflect a light through never-ending mirrors
I'ma travel down a rabbit hole, diminish into miniature
beginning inquisitions into 'which path is the finisher?'
"get back" like Lennon and them when the tempurature is threatening
the ledge don't know your vertigo perspective's disconnected
we tread limbo like our back's to the floor, asking for more
grasping toward heaven, while our tracks are headed fast to the door
poured from the cast of the explorer, Jack is naturally fascinated
cracked the case that made him in a fraction of his maturation
that's the way to act on passion! blasted past the lazy asses
graduated 'master craftsman', never needed acting classes
white, black, asian, latin: strike back! fight the major status quo
the category separation status has to go
if broke, exasperated "joe average" is sewn into your fabric
grab your scrotum sack and show that you're a pro down to the protoplasm
Jackie rip like "Drunken Master" split bamboo stick
you get bodied in the alley, I'm Confusious with this music
on some "now we chillin' Cali with Davu" shit - on some true grit
on some 'I got all this legacy I don't know what to do with'
all these Brutuses, and Olive isn't stupid, but she's clueless
so I pack a pipe of spinach with the goons and stay reclusive
keep it moving with producers, keep it tuned to 'channel b-boy'
got the kung-fu to exude a deeper hue than Bruce Lee Roy
he caught a bullet in his teeth
now it's a never-ending Russian roulette when he speaks


we didn't plan it, but the damage is done
the plants are rooted, they ain't moving, the advantage is won
no need to brandish a gun! son, I don't even speak Spanish,
thug, wannabe, or hunter - prey run for cover, duck, or vanish
one-handed mic-bonded blood-brother gripper
some? branded price/money tongue - 'trust fund spitter'
landed in the front from the back like nothing happened
then you noticed that it's Jack and it sinks in that you've been lapped
due to the fact that it's a tilted axis, bills control the masses
hasn't been a cat this class-action since Robin stole the taxes
thing prolapse, some grow back - time's proof of our decay
I mutter truth and keep the photo booth on shutter-speed delay
gutterfeed skullduggery that hovers like a mothership
incredibly alive, blurry eyes steady on some other shit
the 'ready pop' is plenty hot, if empty thought's your quest or not
this destiny telepathy's a distant, destination plot trajectory
so skeptics ought to give the trough and crest a shot
wave rollercoaster blood vessel that's never meant to clot