Talk to me smart young child,
Obedience watch it grow in vain.
I ask the question, have you ever seen,
The words of the tongue swing the veins,
Blood boiling with the search of the lyrical phase.
I'm still cooking my pot with some words that could give me some taste.
Tasteless, phaseless, sayless when you come to my face.
So don't talk to me smart young child,
Just groove with the walk young sign,
Know the heart when it talk young blood,
Say naw, when they kill the vibe.


© K_The_Lyricist