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Mind In A Box Machine Run

a machine, feeding on the need to run. I was lost in a dark dream, my end to blot out the sun. I had become a machine, feeding on the need to run. I

pop The first was the usage of an actual band, The second was a drum machine made by a man, The third was the human beats box and percussion The fourth

Lockeed even without means I run a course rough Terana Mach speed Thats a rhyme from like 9-3 Thats vivid in the mind, as pictures with 600 DPI's to a

ass with coke money C Back, Maybach, my shit two tone Nigga run up on that, your ass a tombstone I'm hood like a group home, ghetto like a pay phone

a nigga came back I seen him 'fore he seen me Hunt him down with that infared beam See I been made a plan Dogs seen a many snappin Duck in a long driveway with a

Lockheed, even with knock knees I run across rough terrain at mach speed That's a rhyme from like 9-3, it's vivid in the mind as pictures with six hundred

and I bust on him Don't hate! I rocked out like Philly rock Wrists streetlight: a New York City block Beat your ass like a New York City cop Flipmode a Rah Digga, a mind

yer drain pipe's a-pourin' And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin' And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin

yer drain pipe's a-pourin' And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin' And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin