Smyth, DJ Food Stamp, Ian Michael Lindsay - Ink Lyrics

Don't think too much about it
Just start to write it down
Things come in from the spiritual realm
And start working on your behalf when you do that

I'm tryna balance circuitry within my brain storms
But electric currents multiply as my pain swarms
Well the bars emergent from the hardest workin mind congested
By the turbulence in Pieces of Dreams like Stanley Turrentine
Thought clouds stimulate my dome at lightning speed
Synergies of energy sprouted all around me
I saw my darkness turn to light, it manifested through my ink
The words resuscitate my sight and answer questions as I sink
Deep between the lines, fingers slippin tryna grasp
Vines as I slide like sand in an hourglass
Land turn to powder ash, I retain my battle stance
Claimed by the avalanche, a flame in my fragile hands

That's my writin process
Tell me if you know a more enticing option
For us to get our thoughts across it's life or coffins
I'm just tryna write through the nights I'm lost in

Carve a hole up in my dome, hopin to find
A holy scroll, afloat inside the oceans of my mind
Packaged in a bottle and aligned with divine twine
But I'd be blind to define this as my design
Cause it's more metaphysical, allure sort of mystical
I long for intrinsic pull to get a sword and split my skull
Let that luminous light leak lavishly
As the bluest of skies creeps casually
I realize beauty lies in this unraveling
At times, transmitting the signal is what I'm battling
But everything's clear, the moment I'm still
My hands are free, I'm holding the quill

That's my writin process
Tell me if you know a more enticing option
For us to get our thoughts across it's life or coffins
I'm just tryna write through the nights I'm lost in

Cough, cough, gosh
All right let's see... Spore Attic
Spore Attic? Ah, here it is, 7, 7
Agh, always takes like 20 years, jesus
Come on now, just need to get to 7
God finally, cough
What? It's disgusting
So Dirty