Feeling It All

Peace is waking at dawn by some chill ass birds Dinosaur division still livin', droppin' the good word What up willow as I sip toward meditation Loquacious thoughts drift and lift in cosmic relation The breeze feels nice, and I can smell the spring's bloom Not of my things now steady hanging with no doom What's new little homey, yo these beavers mad quick That's some mad with magic craftin' cabins and shit I'm on that natural vibe, a whole nother level Benevolent rebel treble in my voice, rap choice experimental Transcendental accidental or exponential The mad hatter's matter's only matter developmentally And this is all great fun but the bunnies on the move The groove morning dues deep truths that creep through 'Cause small town talks just a part of the blues Which is my favorite color so it's something I use I don't get mad at the sky when it starts to fall I'm not mad at the thought that shook the eight-ball Going mad from the motives writings on the wall Must be something in the cool aid 'cause I'm feeling it all Don't get mad at the sky when it starts to fall I'm not mad at the thought that shook the eight-ball Going mad from the motives writings on the wall Must be something in the cool aid 'cause I'm feeling it all What is peace? Peace is not bombs dropped in the streets Peace is not a selfish plot that dictates if I'm free grief of the guillotine Now its mortars and rockets private industries stay flush With gilded pockets, investments get a cut while The worker bee pays the old order stays engraved on The display inflations no ruse, it's a reaction to the way The world moving, we tryna spin too fast The spheres gone crazy mad outta orbit Military variables make life look distorted Evils rewarded bombs strike a theater with kids A horrid sordid siege where they did what they did So I grip onto the grievance that ripples through the collective Everyone holds a piece genetic eternal connection An objection of force a dangerous projection 'Cause subjection is the ego at evil's discretion And I don't get mad at the sky when it starts to fall I'm not mad at the thought that shook the eight-ball Going mad from the motives writings on the wall Must be something in the cool aid 'cause I'm feeling it all Don't get mad at the sky when it starts to fall I'm not mad at the thought that shook the eight-ball Going mad from the motives writings on the wall Must be something in the cool aid 'cause I'm feeling it all