[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 chimp 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 played, 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!