[uncredited spoken word poet forms the song's intro]      I had forgotten the incredible butter softness of his long fingers.      How they felt on my back when he slow-dragged with me,      at a fateful "Blue Lights in the Basement" party.      The dim lights making his honey-colored eyes barely visible as he,      FLASHED A PENLIGHT IN MY EYES!      "Look directly into the light this time."            [Aceyalone]      I say look into the light      See what you look like               I scribble on a clean surface, the earthless and worthless {*echoes*   [Chorus]      It's life, at the tunnel of the point of purchase {*echoes*   Aiyyo freedom got a microphone, AND a AK {*echoes*      Make way, and prepare for the melee {*echoes*               [Aceyalone]      The method of my madness could NEVER be known   The microphone magic of Aceyalone      Don't, try to set home or off of the dome      Because wigs are known to be SPLIT         And a, fan is known to be hit with shit         Rubber band flows that snap back in place   Rap in they face, get this motherfucker outta here      He talks way way way WAY too much   Spit for the victory, 'til they sick of me         I never wallow in the bickery or trickery      There's no con-FUSION, just the FUSION      No il-LUSION, cause God rule them               Held high, nailed in the sky   The artistic eye leaves you mystified      You're once denied, soon openly obliged            [Chorus]            [Aceyalone]      They say, "rock you don't stop" but what you talkin bout   Well let me guess, you come fi test         But test not he who knows best, put nonsense to rest      Preachin on a soapbox, dope on the block         Choke on your tongue, smoke from the gun   Broke in the middle, I hope you're havin fun      HIGH post, high dose, high strung      Wind through the lungs, spirit of the young   Salt on the slug, caught with the plug         Fought with the drugs, taught by the thugs   Eye of a tiger, head of a lion         Walkin through the interior of Siberia   Chip away at the rock, or a dynamite block         Right where they had to stop, we continue      Think the worst, ink into the verse      Sink into the earth, die by the end of the rhyme      What a rush, too much to discuss      I close it up by sayin this            [Chorus]