Bob Ross-Killah Priest

[00:00.000] 作词 : Walter Reed [00:01.000] 作曲 : Walter Reed [00:05.054] My life is a transition [00:06.711] Something wonderful is unfolding within my writtens [00:09.726] Inside my space book, the Jesus, jedi, the unknown, god’s chromosome [00:13.789] Beautiful color tone cover my bones [00:16.100] The sky color of red dye [00:17.808] Beneath the ascension solar system [00:19.753] From supernovas, I unrolled into this existence [00:21.942] Unfolded, vibrated out of light [00:24.019] But icy shadows gave me my pigment [00:25.904] My flesh is tinted, opium scented [00:28.156] No religion, I wrote the sentence [00:29.898] I’m true and living [00:31.048] The summer ghost and the yellow coat [00:32.952] I watch the sky crack like an egg [00:34.890] The clouds spread out like the whites, the sun was the yolk [00:37.336] Liquid sunshine, wishful dreams [00:39.294] Mystic pastime, I fed the fish in the stream [00:41.837] That’s where I met her, Metu Neter, Neter Metu [00:44.144] Before the ancestors came to get her [00:47.046] From a pillar of smoke, she spoke [00:49.306] My humble posture stood by the willow oak [00:51.767] She said, “Killah, you woke, stay woke” [00:54.218] We spoke all night ’til day broke [00:56.225] It’s like I spoke to Gabriel or hundreds of angels [00:59.596] Standing at the top of the trail was a gray horned owl [01:03.013] Storm clouds, then calmed down [01:05.525] It’s late afternoon in the woods where there’s bears and wolves [01:09.747] It’s rare but oh yeah, without a care, I’m good [01:13.241] The freelancer in the flatlands [01:15.795] I need answers, don’t tap dance [01:17.704] More enhanced black man [01:19.581] In the daylight [?], we never seen the meadows and the marshlands [01:24.202] Ta-da, I make my art stand with a harp in hand [01:27.514] Imagination parades with a marching band [01:30.363] All started from rapping at park jams [01:32.743] It’s funny, sometimes I think it’s all part of a plan [01:36.241] The ghetto never seen the evergreen [01:38.564] Long fields of rain over prairies [01:41.190] Open country, floating fairies [01:43.435] Fine dandelions to sleep in, emotions are heavy [01:46.565] Right here is where you vision a patch of berries [01:49.027] These are Bob Ross thoughts, but my paint brush is how I came up [01:52.502] It was gang stuff, stick ups, cocaine rush [01:55.309] Hop in the trains and the bus [01:57.321] Hold up, let me explain, I never thought King Tut was the same as us [02:01.285] Never puffed dust, maybe once [02:03.344] Never slang much but the football game was tough [02:06.184] Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood was in the midst of robbers on Gates and Hood’s [02:11.041] Deep thoughts, unknown source