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Chosen Plans

from Mind of a Tehranist by eMCee Killa

/

lyrics

the deadly nightshade, heavy high grade,
it stems the meaning of my quest to send a penny my way,
left or right lanes, I sense an imperfection,
forever independent, till when I pick my pension,
depending on if we're strong enough think about it,
to strip the truth so we no longer have to fit the outfit,
the papers talk around it, but they don't read the language,
they target lack of knowledge, twist, so you dont understand it,
a chain of businesses and we're the factory lines, matched in time,
and through their dominance they must have planned it,
cos now conspiracy is taking us to funny lengths,
but makes us more determined to be seeking where the money's spent,
so come together its the future that we hold in hands,
cos all of us young enough to seek all of our chosen plans,
so pose a stand is it you or is it them thats wrong,
the governement officials blowing missiles in the pentagon,
chemical gas that was used in used falluja, you cant be human,
so now you see where my tempers gone,
7/7 bombings, david kelly its a nasty joke,
david shayler put alot of truth in what my father wrote,
hidden atrocities the service really knew about,
but kept it on the low because they want to clear the sewers out,
we’re under threat while some are sat deciding latter earth,
the world evaporates and what becomes of all your shackled work,
its me whos inexperienced the same as you,
but want to know the reason why we see so many racist troops,
invading every sacred truthful town that we've been praisful to,
establishment collapsed for the fact that your a crazy dude,

it seems life is a source that you bring to the plate,
and death is a promise that you bring to the grave,
blessed with my knowledge as it sinks on the page,
like a branch in the forest or a needle in the hay,

needless to say, its like life is a blank canvas,
paint flakes like bad dandruff,
vacate snakes lay like black mamba’s,
strike venom every day like yank tankers,
a blank shrine, can’t adapt, I’m
trapped with my bad times, stuck in my back mind,
I don’t act right, man I stand left wing,
From the cats eyes, and all central reservations,
Police state and the crack pipes,
Living in internal Britain’s landslide,
Never coping to notice, asylum has taken our focus away from the violence,
So now your switching your votes, in the hope that your rascist approach will be seen as “alright den”
It couldn’t be further from the truth, you may have heard a lot of news,
But we’re the vermin of the youth,
And your Chinese whispers, makes the source of the talk two faced like Siamese twins,
I’m a write these scriptures, watch the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end from the wisdom

credits

from Mind of a Tehranist, released November 1, 2009

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eMCee Killa London, UK

Twitter: emceekillalot

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