12.14.2011

SA-ROC: "FIRE,WIND THEN EARTH"-PRODUCED BY: SOL MESSIAH THE NAVIGATOR ((Audio/Lyrics))


When I'm writing I invite you to the right side of my brain. Infect you with my inflections, impress you with my refrains. Hundred and twenty verses of personal self reflection. Painstakingly written to clarify your perception. Sa-roc will not be compromised from lines that break bad on wax but fall flat at press time. I'm destined to take root in stars but right now I grind in suede boots and silk scarves. I'm built hard with soft spots and weak moments, and through all of the challenges I just keep forward. Cuz I prayed that I would speak and yall would understand the pressure that it takes for god mc to be human again I'm stressing. Failure's not an option but mediocrity's taunting me following every rhyme like a hawk and I know that they can't wait to catch me slipping. But this one is for you and me so we gon polish up this gold glistening!

This is word sound power. My sonic booms is blowing out mics and stage lights, I'm consecrating sound booths dressed in all white. Pass me a super hit I'm just getting the mood right. bout to throw it down in the kitchen cuz this is food right? I done got my weight up, building my body of work, proudly display my medals cuz healing is valiant work. Im 14 days fasting, disciplined self mastery. Fire breathing get that high energy moving faster. I am phoenix, look at how I'm rising from the ashes. Knocking the opposition out the ring call me cassius. My team extraordinary their crew is average. If they going left I will exit stage right. Rewriting text til I get the feeling the page right. My mothership music changing your brain patterns. this is outer space technology science is game shattering.

My light never dissipates it refracts and bends thru the looking glass lens. Watchful eyes sit and wait for the moment I give in. for cheap tricks and flash to invade my sentence. But my mission came written like genetic imprints. each line is pure. Soft voice demure, belt out a rhyme til throat's raw and sore. Peep dudes pick up their jaws off the floor. cuz fresh jawns can rip their shows like the boys. I show out on tour. wild tights couture, dook chains and gold hoops, loc styles galore. peace over war, but trust they attack my sword at the door. I'm not in it for minutes of false praises. Im brick laying mortaring stones across stages. Adapt and adjust my flow to moon phases. elevate the crowds with chants and dune phrases.

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