I am the stone that the builder refused I am the visual
The inspiratoin that made the lady sing the blues
I am the spark that makes your ideas bright the same
Spark that lights the dark so you can know the left
From your right I am the balloon in your box the
Bullet in your gun the inner glow that lets you know
To call your brother son, The story that just began
Promise of whats to come and imma remain a soilder
Till the war is done (Chop Chop Judo Flip)