CYNE - Tide Of Life lyrics

It's the ichiban player sneakin'
Up on the avenue
So ante up we jumpin’ snakes eyes
‘bout to battle you hold your hands up heard
You back from sabbatical
A player so smooth gimme room
While I challenge you
Cise Star never in the day only evenings
Transparent, dark
Move unit's while you sleeping
Be the overachiever, the human heat-seeker
The tactile style is wild
Giving you seizures slow motherfuckers
These skilled packs of readers
You're suing me
But sorry as hell you're just Zima
Gangsta lean, holding my dreams
Hope receiver so what you mean? Better
Redeem or be believer

Crush grooves on soft planets
Making it so hard
From Pacific to Atlantic, dammit
We gon’ ball
Like sandcastles for rent, bitch
You gon’ fall
With the tide, with the tide, with the tide
Huh, tide of life

Automatic static
I'm flowing throughout your phone lines
Connecting the internet
The dialect is so fine
Forever elevators are taking me so high
Inhale and sigh, after reason that I'm so fly
Quick, connect the FireWire I won't lie
Gotta write, love to Hell just to get by
Poetic instead it's kinetic ‘til
I touch minds
Blind, looking for answers until I
Let my ears find
A certain resonance with the
Presence of elegant
African elephants roaming the
Soundscape effortless
Spreading the wisdom that bangs
Your sound system
Airwaves behave radiohead jurisdiction

Crush grooves on soft planets
Making it so hard
From Pacific to Atlantic, dammit
We gon’ ball
Like sandcastles for rent, bitch
You gon’ fall
With the tide, with the tide, with the tide
Huh, tide of life

Smoothin’ in action
But burning in the afternoon
We keep the mood subtle and
Bubble audible follow through
Methodical, the speeds we reaching
Until we capture you
Grip tighter than death
We sweat at higher altitudes
We never lose to those that don't get it
Hyper future, speak implanted
And chromed-out sinners livin’
I fear the menace, son i talk to dons
My cellphone got a alter-call, it be the
It be the

African mean, fly like a pelican bee
It's do or die bare the nine
Now who want it with he? The wild African
Back with the pen to the pad again
So that's a wrap for y'all
The phony rap actors
In this game called music some do abuse it
I reach for utopia found now I'm losing
No jazz tunes, rap goon word is my weapon
I'm Kane in his prime
Rhymin’ you half-steppin’ so half-assed
You get gas them crackers made you
I came from the ground up
To brawl they paid you, fucker
You ain't never gonna last in this
That's the every-Chingy-type rapper
Posing his bitch
We shitting on y'all why spawn
The lyrics or brawl knock the wind
Not the lame play Steven Seagal
I'm jackin' your chan kO, flow with the wind
My nigga Cise got the Water for
Mars and we begin go!