[Intro]
This world is my cave
And the cave molds the background
Of a picture painted by you

[Distorted speech]
He kicks and screams and scratches at the time as it slowly passes by
Only relapse ?which multiple? fucks his mind
He strains to twist the universe at his will hoping to open the sky and seal off the prison hell he exists in
Within a breath of his imagination he realizes everything is just a word
But his focus is drowned in the increased echo sound of heart, beat pound no slow dreams oxygen bound to the bleeding walls of his nature
Now with pieces under the pupil? and its firmly pressed into the palm of his hand
He has a vision, he is a vision he isn’t man, he lives for plan?, plan shifts as his numb lungs expand
Equals a cold rush in his veins, so play and blame, ??and decimate you for what she stands??

THIS WORLD IS MY CAVE AND THE CAVE MOLDS THE BACKGROUND OF A PICTURE PAINTED BY YOU. (repeated)

He slept with fate and found a corpse in his arms upon awakening??
He tried to dance all life with doubt and found a virgin in the morning?

Hey yo it's time
(Yeah it's time)
Yeah it's time
(Hey yo it's time)
Hey yo it's time
(let 'em know what time it is)
[Verse 1: Eyedea]
Yo, it's time to clean MTV out of your ears
And listen up like a good student
Eyedea and Abilities is here to turn robotic chimp back into humans
I gotta speak until the facts get heard
I collapse the last fractured nerve
This is much more than just your average rapper's words
Passing verbs and laughter hurts
The passengers in my head flight
Dead right if a clash occurs that ass get served, better luck next life
I plaster terms to the wall of shame
Cause their songs are all the same
And you played, talkin' how you platinum on the first record you ever made
And the underground MCs these days don't seem to make the grade
Too busy being bitter about they situation
To create a greater way to break their chains
To that phase
And I don't trust the major mutt label
Pets talkin' dog shit
I'll break your neck frame your nuts
And hang them up in your boss's office
See me auction off hits easy
For low prices, I flow nicest
Write at night to fight off poltergeists, catapult advice
From iris, The hopeful light is the virus of the whole crisis
Souls like this collide with logic and modestly deposit
Metaphysical greetings
And I didn't come alone
Abilities annihilates the techs while I wreck the microphone
We're in your zone to keep your earth warm
And give you what you thirst for
This is Turntable-ism and Lyricism, Imperialism
First Born!