I’m Way Beyond me.
I’m beyond the thoughts of words, beyond the word of thoughts,
Beyond speaking about thinking and thinking about speaking.
Just speaking the thoughts that I’ve unspoken;
Words that mind refuse to say.
When there's a break in the rhythm, that’s the break in the floor.
When does the break in the learning become the break in the know?
What does a break in the know do to the break in the goal?
Should I keep going to speak the words that make me flow?
They make me know that they don’t really know what they think they know.
They never understood flow, yet they damn rivers;
They never understood flow, yet they try to damn raindrops.
But the raindrops never stop because people are too busy crying
About the struggle, the pain, the hustle, the game—
The game of hustling while struggling through pain.
Sometimes people forget their own names;
Sometimes they get so high, so far gone...
Bringing back the flow of those who never knew they didn't know.
It's hard to be listening when you keep speaking.
If you stop speaking, then you'll see what you're not listening to.
If you stop speaking, then you remember what you're not listening to.
And if you're listening to what you're not listening to,
Then how do you know that you're listening to what you should be?
I know that's hard to flow with you, but if you go with you,
You will find where you're going.
And maybe you shouldn't be where you've been.
If you're not going where you've been because you forgot
Where you were going... Man, you see?
When do you see how heavy these words are?
I've been carrying libraries on my back—of the lies been buried on my back.
They've been telling me lies about me that lies been buried on my back.
I struggle every day, trying to find some way to play,
Trying to find somewhere to gain what I've lost.
So many thoughts in my mind trying to remember
That I got to one day make it where I'm going.
So I keep one foot in front of the other and never stop believing in myself.
Because if I stop believing in myself,
How can I expect belief from anyone else?
If I don't move the way I should move, I can't worry about the groove that I lose.
If I lose a move that I move to move, and if I move to move,
Then I move to groove.
In the groove with the beat and the beat in the street that I walked down,
Remembering the faces that I’ve seen.
Sometimes wearing smiles when I wanted to frown,
Showing no tears while dying on the inside.
My words became sick, so I made my pen sick,
And my pen poured onto my paper and began to write the words I forgot.
I began to let myself into the paper.
And when you purge yourself into the paper, that is when I—
I purged myself into the paper.
See, I was sick so I made my pen sick, and then it made my pad sick,
And my pad began to take down the notes of my pen purging itself.
It began to tell stories of me, and me began to think about I.
Walking like a slave to a system
Tilla Sonrise
aka Twizted Metaphorz
Peace
TillaSonrise
