Pen and a Pad




All I need is a pen and a pad,or a chalk and a slate,
Not the friends that I've had or the promise of fate,
All I want is the state,not the props or the daps,
Feelin' haunted of late,all I got is these tracks,
All I got is these raps,these words,these rhymes scribbled in notepads,
Like on the blocks with the cats and the curbs,addicts hold on to their dope-bags,
That's how I hold on my rhyme book,'coz I'm a junkie for flow,
So I flow songs till I find truth,these chumps see me and go,
"Yo you seen A-list,he's obsessed with his rhymes,he's in need of some help",
They say my dream's aimless,stress in my mind,not in greed of the wealth,
But in need of the health,mental in nature,they say I'm insane,
My issues are both fundamental and major,I play with my brain,
For these rhymes i conjure,pen in my hand and pad on my desk,
From my mind they come pure,like a prayer I got my hand on my chest,
After I'm done,like a prayer to God in respect of what is divine,
The bastard has come,feel like a slayer with sword,ready to check on the swine,
With my neck and my spine,straight like they say the righteous path is,
The shit I rep in my rhymes,always pumping just like your heart is,
Only it pumps blood,while I pump lyrical life into markings of ink,
Your body is pumped up while this miracle light reaches hearts and it shrinks,
The darkness,till illumination is universal like the label but no marketing price,
And all the heart's blessed,inspiration can burst through and turn sharks into mice,
And all the above were done not by some powers I pretended I had,
But this was all possible through the strentgh of a pen and a pad.