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Lyrify.me

Wandering Mystic by Kalki Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2010

Like vagabonds my paths alarm you
I practice with passion and calm
Master the songs, pass them on
Attacking & harming the contras

Across the atlas & stars, I call, masses & armies respond
Further tracks in a storm, blast through the fog with them
Black till I’m all Wisdom like Black gods to Hindus
Can’t fathom what I’ve gone & been through
Depths in fathoms like bars in mentals
Get to grasp them like Mars encryptions
Bright stars get lit, then pause for an instant
You glimpse them shining & blinking, sparkling
In light darkness, in interim like anti-life particles
My pictures grim, antic like goddesses
Lanterns light, follow them
Answers right within the hollow tip
Chanting hyphens in molecules, enlightening all of you
Yet frightening bothersome presences, I barter with peasants
Don’t bother with princes, I’m charting the heavens
Talking with emperors, my speech is invincible
Reaching in writs into the deepest abysses
Impeaching in wit each individual that seeks with intention
To be with my enemies, I’m keen on my senses
Seven is heavenly, but eight is infinity
Change is within me, within you, intrinsically
Hatred is insensitivity, I bade for intention and Livity
& made them principles, unfaded inceptions
I gazed them intently, dazed intensely from grades of sensi
Delayed in mental, I prayed for deliverance & peace
Then preyed in the wilderness with beasts
Slaying, killing & feasting, for each sin I’m still in the deep end
I pray that I’m filled with ease
And repentance in speeches
Penance and meekness in the presence of each kid
Apprentice to the beach & trees, its residents & secrets
Benevolence, uniqueness, the essence of what you seek is
New feelings like blueprints of Egypt
I got you believing 2Pac isn’t dead
You’d choose to live in secret in a new dimension after death
This is passed in breath by a bastard bred with a half-blasted mental
Half past convinced that the last past Messenger’s been dead
For the past one & a half-century,and yet it’s the Second, we’re back at it again
The Black Son resurrected as a half-Nigerian
African Kemet is his Kingship & past area of residence
The rest of them are from every section
Every religion’s representatives blessed
Every kingdom, imperial dominions & queendoms
This one is weak & recessive so I speak in expletives
Explicit in entries, I seek & get tempted,and yet I’m free thinking
In speechless sentences & speeches, the beat convinces me in sequences
Writs are in between them, sense is in the seams that I stitched
I mean this as a gift, I missed but misleading you isn’t it
I’m deaf but it seems to be disinterest
My breaths leading you to think,death leads you into sinking
In the deepest rifts of existence
Just leave the rest of your pretences be with your pretensions
My mentions’ depths feed the abyssal
Peace be to the people listening