​Napping Under The Echo Tree 歌词

The vibe is big, the room is small When I was boxing with Vallejo in Albany Park It's already dark, and I'm scared of that Or was it with Hank Dumas in Oakland By the lake where I openly argued with my fates Coin purse bulging, loin cloth bulging How is it these words are my ointment still? Measuring years by tooth decay And ruthless stratagems played In the game of knights I would describe myself as the Yoshimitsu of Boyle Heights Most boastful over bowls of rice Like I'm Caesar with the soul of It's just a feeling, really That being who has her being and pointing at what is Admittedly I stare at her finger's soul Herein defined is that in which spirit has its being Soul power, soul power, soul power This is the green horse for rap I'm putting my money on the green horse for rap Listen, the beginning is the illusion It is the iron veil concealing the origin But here I am with a key This is protected Steadfast, intimate concentration I've been gathering Gathering more and more of the lesson-less In the wastelands, gathering, waning In my being, gathering everything's constant intention That how-did-he-say gathered, all gathering thinking that recalls That devotional organ, my memory, I remember The riddle written on my rib cage The eternal recurrence of the same The being of all becoming The hammer and the heaviest thought banged into absurdity I wasted my life microwaving jalapeno poppers A love song for whom socks represent eudaimonia