Into My Dream by Edgar Wyndham Lyrics
[Verse 1: Edgar Wyndham]
Sometimes I feel like I got me a sickness
So I spark it, sit back, and then I just kick this
With a quickness and it ain’t coincidental
That I flow off the head and straight from the mental
The only jewels I rock are these hidden gems
Mined from records for me to chop and pitch bend
Ain’t god and earth but respect the five percent
For what it’s worth, we need more of them to represent
And it’s evident that they could kick knowledge
More than the bollocks most of ya’ll got outta college
You might knowledge it as some sorta sacrilege
But my favorite MCs never packed or was that big
I'm bigger than the nonsense, so the rhyme is intense
I light up the sens and burn MC’s like incense
Cut ‘em off mid-sentence, I could straight up interrupt
Cuz hip-hop culture has gone straight up corrupt
Yea, what?
[Verse 2: Edgar Wyndham]
Talk about bling and a bloodlust for green
Ya’ll bring down that already low enough mean
Call me Bonkers off Turbographix sixteen
I use my head to destroy when I spit sixteen
Rage against the machine that’s burnin’ up bread
So, I toss toasters out rhymes, instead go for the head
So, I’m talkin’ to heads and not the brain dead
Gotta keep teachin’ like KRS said
Better check ya head, inspect ya dome
Ya actin' brain dead like kids wit down syndrome
Just like Korky but life goes on
I blast like Tron and I breath like a marathon
Verbal pylons carry high wattage words
Keep your eyes on the unseen and most heard
Absurd third dimension word technician
Who twists words like some sorta brain infection
[Verse 3: Edgar Wyndham]
In almost every culture there once were kings
Now actin’ like queens with all that diamond bling
How you use ghost writers when the games about writin'
Pow, you blasphemers get struck by the god's lightning
You think hip-hop ain’t influenced by whitey
Before Pete Rock or Large Pro was Paul C
Ultra-magnetically, he showed us how to chop
And without that, what would we call hip-hop
I'm into punk rock, do both like Adam Rock
So I’m beastie when I come with that damn hip-hop
And I never had to do me no type crip walk
Nor slang big-bang in a big ol zip-lock
Did some dirt, kept the brain on hip-hop
It ain’t no pain, when it come to the shit talk
So shit don't stop, just keep on keepin on
Til the break of dawn, until the peeps is gone
Sometimes I feel like I got me a sickness
So I spark it, sit back, and then I just kick this
With a quickness and it ain’t coincidental
That I flow off the head and straight from the mental
The only jewels I rock are these hidden gems
Mined from records for me to chop and pitch bend
Ain’t god and earth but respect the five percent
For what it’s worth, we need more of them to represent
And it’s evident that they could kick knowledge
More than the bollocks most of ya’ll got outta college
You might knowledge it as some sorta sacrilege
But my favorite MCs never packed or was that big
I'm bigger than the nonsense, so the rhyme is intense
I light up the sens and burn MC’s like incense
Cut ‘em off mid-sentence, I could straight up interrupt
Cuz hip-hop culture has gone straight up corrupt
Yea, what?
[Verse 2: Edgar Wyndham]
Talk about bling and a bloodlust for green
Ya’ll bring down that already low enough mean
Call me Bonkers off Turbographix sixteen
I use my head to destroy when I spit sixteen
Rage against the machine that’s burnin’ up bread
So, I toss toasters out rhymes, instead go for the head
So, I’m talkin’ to heads and not the brain dead
Gotta keep teachin’ like KRS said
Better check ya head, inspect ya dome
Ya actin' brain dead like kids wit down syndrome
Just like Korky but life goes on
I blast like Tron and I breath like a marathon
Verbal pylons carry high wattage words
Keep your eyes on the unseen and most heard
Absurd third dimension word technician
Who twists words like some sorta brain infection
[Verse 3: Edgar Wyndham]
In almost every culture there once were kings
Now actin’ like queens with all that diamond bling
How you use ghost writers when the games about writin'
Pow, you blasphemers get struck by the god's lightning
You think hip-hop ain’t influenced by whitey
Before Pete Rock or Large Pro was Paul C
Ultra-magnetically, he showed us how to chop
And without that, what would we call hip-hop
I'm into punk rock, do both like Adam Rock
So I’m beastie when I come with that damn hip-hop
And I never had to do me no type crip walk
Nor slang big-bang in a big ol zip-lock
Did some dirt, kept the brain on hip-hop
It ain’t no pain, when it come to the shit talk
So shit don't stop, just keep on keepin on
Til the break of dawn, until the peeps is gone