One

[Intro] This world is my cave And the cave molds the background Of a picture painted by you [Distorted speech] He kicks and screams and scratches at the time as it slowly passes by Only relapse ?which multiple? fucks his mind He strains to twist the universe at his will hoping to open the sky and seal off the prison hell he exists in Within a breath of his imagination he realizes everything is just a word But his focus is drowned in the increased echo sound of heart, beat pound no slow dreams oxygen bound to the bleeding walls of his nature Now with pieces under the pupil? and its firmly pressed into the palm of his hand He has a vision, he is a vision he isn’t man, he lives for plan?, plan shifts as his numb lungs expand Equals a cold rush in his veins, so play and blame, ??and decimate you for what she stands?? THIS WORLD IS MY CAVE AND THE CAVE MOLDS THE BACKGROUND OF A PICTURE PAINTED BY YOU. (repeated) He slept with fate and found a corpse in his arms upon awakening?? He tried to dance all life with doubt and found a virgin in the morning? Hey yo it's time (Yeah it's time) Yeah it's time (Hey yo it's time) Hey yo it's time (let 'em know what time it is) [Verse 1: Eyedea] Yo, it's time to clean MTV out of your ears And listen up like a good student Eyedea and Abilities is here to turn robotic teens back into humans I gotta speak until the facts get heard I collapse the last fractured nerve This is much more than just your average rapper's words Passing verbs and laughter hurts The passengers in my head flight Dead right if a clash occurs that ass get served, better luck next life I plaster terms to the wall of shame Cause their songs are all the same And you play, talkin how you platinum on the first record you ever made And the underground MCs these days don't seem to make the grade Too busy being bitter about they situation To create a greater way to break their chains To that phase And I don't trust the major mutt label Pets talkin dog shit I'll break your neck frame your nuts And hang them up in your boss's office See me auction off hits easy For low prices, I flow nicest Write at night to fight off poltergeists, catapult advice From iris, The hopeful light is the virus of the whole crisis Souls like this collide with logic and modestly deposit Metaphysical greetings And I didn't come alone Abilities annihilates the techs while I wreck the microphone We're in your zone to keep your earth warm And give you what you thirst for This is Turntable-ism and Lyricism, Imperialism First Born!