Khem Boi & Dr. Hollyhock - Heaven and Hell Lyrics

Can I get a beat box?

When I cut flows, it leaves them in denial
Like Moses's people, it's that damn, I need a sequel
But keep the mic away from him (Whatchu mean?) oh he's got it...
I get my bread by the beach like a seagull
I enjoy the breeze but I still need goals
Aint trying to leave seashells to see holes
I'm trying to lead them to see what the sea holds
Turn the letter to the side see what a C holds,
Yes, All of you or maybe nothing at all...(Think about it)
When I hear yall spit, it sounds like a drought
It's like I got the pacific in my mouth
So much life and soul really you can't even hate
I leave demons some coal if they start testing my fate
Really I don't need jewelry or rap shit
I just need to sit down and pray...

I do the word play cuz it feels like god tells me to
Forgive me when I curse its not at you
He can take away this gift whenever he wants
That's how I feel when I get writers block
Is this just a step to the side or do I stop?
Do I keep it all inside or do I pop?
Do I let the mic rule my life or do I let it drop?
There's gotta be other things I'm into...
Yeah click click that's all you'd hear
I used to read organic chemistry text books in my last year of high school
Used to be a lunch table rapper
Who'd ever thought I'd put together syllables like molecules
I'm grateful for it every day
It gave me an opportunity to put my story in a way that people want to hear it
All the lyrics they came from my real life and imagination
Creativity goes a far way
It's like my old bar spitting days are so far away
But really I still got it underneath me sleepily, I just...
Pick the dreams out and then I spit them into reality

Yeah, I don't listen to a lot of rappers
They sound like broken pianos
The only hits the make is off note
But maybe they're just trying to pop and lock on the track
They really cant get it though
Not a lot of people take it as an art form
Really I put in the word form
Just so I can spit the best poem
Everyone's got word play but they cant spell
Everyone's got money but they cant sell
Everyone can read and write
But they cant tell the difference between the lie ant the truth
Third eye haikus I write through my minds attic-
(Oooooh shit)
I'm back at it, like an addict, how tragic, have a crack at it
Check the syllables for 4 4 4 4, for four words
Damn Rain Man rappin again
I'm just painting, you're just trapping the word play
Literally and physically
Only a few will catch that like old money slang
Told you before I don't rap I do my thang, hang and bang
Drop peace and stay out my lane
Or I'll make war plains, heaven and hell
Easy rout or the hard way I got them both in me
Like ying and yang
Do your own thing but check the card count when you play
Check it youth of a student, yet luck of player
Foresight of a dealer The Sensei still has room for improvement