Leave me alone with a pad and a pen in a room with a light,
'Coz all I have at the end is the tune and the mic,
Or the beat and the flow,i'm better off left alone,
It's more than the heat or the cold,it's the best of domes,
I never left the zone,I often felt alone,
So i melt the cone and just rest at home,
'Coz home is where the heart is according to the wise,
But where is home if you're heartless?I pray to the lord that i'll survive,
But the sword and the knife,like the keyboard and the pen,
Are but parts of the chord that is tied, I see more than the men,
And less than the gods do,so I'm stuck in the middle,
Maybe the lord's through,done with adjusting the riddle,
That is humanity,maybe he's resigned and gone,
Maybe the true clarity of rhymes in songs,
Is the new meditation,the way I find what is divine,
The key to blessed creation,these lines lost in my mind,
So fuck everything other than that which i write on,
Most of these emcees suckers,the spirit's weak and the fight's gone,
But i still write songs,'coz this shit's the only friend that I've had,
So at the end when my life's gone,I wanna rest in peace with my pen and my pad.