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CoolChaser

Chronicle



Last Updated: 12/7/2009

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Status: Single
City: PORTLAND
State: Oregon
Country: US
Signup Date: 4/3/2006

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January 6, 2008 - Sunday 

 

 

You can't be movin' up when you're trapped in the basement

I'm talkin' bout patience

Scraping by on the pavement

Cemented in my mind

Master of the ceremony

A wrinkle in time

You gotta get yours so you can take away mine

Break away minds

Sending chills up my spine and into my brain

I can see through your pain like your shit was cellophane

Pertaining to that plastic smile

These Tribulations and trials

Cold blooded reptiles

Striking back at them with boiling hot freestyle

Meanwhile back at the lab

Mix the highs with the lows right in the middle smack-dab

Creating more problems I didn't even have

I'm mad fuckin' crazy

In a material world that pays me

They don't care about our safety

They just shuffle us around

National security?

We gonna be locked down

Oh Mr. D.C. your headed for a ghost town

Shady shit that goes down

Slow Down

You're movin' too fast

They litter on the streets and talk is cheap when it's all trash

Big sound clash

I'll mash it up with bass and drums

Pass the high grade smoke so I can feel it inna me lungs

Because I love the sensi herb like Jamaicans love Kingston

Like England loves Brixton

Like a plant loves the sun

Like Portland feels the rain

Like the times you try to run

From the darkness and the pain

Got know one to blame for those emotional scars

Or the emotional wrecks

When its cold inside you can feel the side effects

But no regrets

I check my roots before the branches

Plant my seed where the sand is

So many chances

To take the message from the bottle

But sometimes the truth is so fuckin' hard to swallow

No leaders to follow

Just hollow pointed shells

It's not about the love but more bout' kiss and tell

Wish you well

Cause all I smell are the rats

And they're feeding us the fiction when all we want are the facts

Then we overreact

Cause know one in the game should get played like that

Don't let it fade to black

There ain't no turning back

I don't believe in back trackin'

I'll never act a fool so motherfucker quit actin'

Attention deficit's a definite distraction

Relaxin'

It's a thing of the past

It's better to be busy than be sittin' on your ass

Watchin' the time pass  

From hourglasses to minutes

Still writing lines to the finish

I need a witness

Some kind of protection

From our own government and agencies of collection

They predict a recession

But there's nothing great about depression

Cause ya never learn your lesson from an ignorant teacher

No special features

Just your average, ordinary, everyday creatures

I ain't no preacher

But I like to say it loud

My little baby girl has got a daddy that's proud

Cause you can call yourself a parent but ya got to know how

To be a teacher

To be a friend

To give them guidance and believe in 'em

You got read to them

Sing to them

Care for them

Be their for them

Let them know your love is unconditional

Then I kiss my little girl

Revolve around her little world

As I rock her to sleep

Little does she know she makes my whole world complete

September 1, 2007 - Saturday 

Chronicle's new CD, "Feel This One" is now available on itunes.  Check it out, download it if ya dig it.  Here's the link

THE Apple iTunes LINK WILL BE:
http://phobos.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?playListId=262429376