Lyrics: Ryan Walklin
Music: Ryan Walklin/Jonathan Norell
It's scriptz
Rest easy arriving in a different coat
Peace is purpose I don't wanna ****ing sugar-coat
Priests gonna die in a meta-crucible
These primates don't know how to see it they ain't prudent-saw
Cant see anything they lost in lines and symbols bruh
Counting up some numbers on a grid like this shit's bad
No man it's not you're lame it's a ****in fad
This shit will die with the language you hold dearly god
Dearly god
You rotten like a ****in corpse
God will slit your throat, cuz you wont obey your lore
Dancing with some music that was made without the world's doors
Dearly god I'm writing to you with that soulless punk
Body vessel where the reasons meet the music turn't
I don't want your language, now it's inward lookin symbols turned
Death is comin' for your highness she goin' like it when it burns
Logic spreading out the purpose center-fold
Mandala breaking in the middle when I stab it in the cold
I'm rising up I'm playing fiddle for this ****ing handsome bull
Yeah we scribe our name in chest where blade is being tandem pulled
See it like I'm on a hunted wanted ship, sip
See the stars from the reasons that I devise in my lid
Picture cars in my future, wealth to share with my friends
Philosopher aristocrat, got power to the sun, I illuminate the earth