Time - Camp Lo

Bacardí Límon, a zone, I’m gone

I’m diving in the doja at night, my light, my life

I’m trapped inside illusion, in flight

I’m lost, I’m found, my sound was designed by dusk

Clogging emotions and I’m bleeding, I’m lusk

Out the hour glass, magic, my tragic is often alternate

What’s the motive?

To ride in automotives

Explosives will blast every time we coast this

Too much roaches in the ashtray, too high

Infatuated, I never graduated

But I’m happy that you made it

Cause I’m always getting faded, and my ninjas they be dated

Cause they ain’t gettn' no fetti but they esso is heavy

And they aim is always ready

What’s the meaning of thought?

From an escort

Caught when you launch, she just thought and open closed doors

Off shore accounts count, pen taught to an hourglass temptress

Take ahead and stone, who think they in a storm

Can’t touch it, can’t taste it, can’t see it

But about six billion junkies be believin'

They running out of time, they want more time

They need more time

Can’t touch it, can’t taste it, can’t see it

But about six billion junkies be believin'

They running out of time, they want more time

They need more time

My mind can’t see it, my body can’t define it

But when I hear the hunger of the younger

I’m reminded, I’m feeling like I’m blinded

I don’t follow awareness

And all of the moves that I make seems to be careless

Can, Can I move my thoughts around?

Can I move my life around?

Will time make me drown?

Will I find another way?

Can I get a definition?

Can I get a new position?

Will I find a new approach?

Will it take the pain away?

Have a cilantro slice

Get your splice to Sinatra

Screaming that the city is mine

Often ten tin men can catch, a sky walk off a Spielberg

Soon to spill it back, in a glass

Can’t chastise no one, unless your rooks and queens in a line

Checkmate maybe, maybe we on a love boat

We loving Timber Wolves, maybe it’s the Knicks off the shoulder

Love potion 99, slow down the timeline

Can’t touch it, can’t taste it, can’t see it

But about six billion junkies be believin'

They running out of time, they want more time

They need more time

Can’t touch it, can’t taste it, can’t see it

But about six billion junkies be believin'

They running out of time, they want more time

They need more time

How can you rock when you constantly on the clock?

How do you determine what’s real and what’s not?

You either in the past like the words of Martin Luther

Or all up in the future like Michael J. Fox

I stay in the now, cause that’s where all the power be

No minutes, no seconds, even hours freeze

Without the help of Sour D

I easily overcome all my cowardly, thoughts

That once held a ninja back

Now I’m karate kicking, until the end of rap

At least until the end of me, but how you in infinity

Can’t touch it, can’t taste it, can’t see it

But about six billion junkies be believin'

They running out of time, they want more time

They need more time