Pure Form - Illogic

It’s the pure form that flows through my bloodstream

The pure form, only the pure form

Only the pure form flows through my bloodstream

Only the pure form, the pure form, the pure form

The pure form, only the pure form

It’s the pure form that flows through my bloodstream

The pure form, the pure form, the pure form

This is virtual rhyme, capture time in my palm

Drinking poison I find, hope I fly before I fall

Lie in the coffin of the crowd, often the sound amuses until the toxins spill

Contaminate the mainstream of the River Skill

Real is an after inkling, shrinking weaklings to afterthoughts

Encased in frost, debating between whether waiting or paying the cost

Lost on the threshold of the next

Masterpiece in the flesh released as a tapestry mesh in defeat that reflects

your conceit

I’m stuck between this rock and the horizon, looking for a kaleidoscope to

climb in

I’m in celestial state, impeccable rate of dissecting your spread

Internal organs and northern mountains and jarring your head

Crash in this plane then into that forest fashion-less

More hungry than the poorest third world activist for exposure

You get the picture, it’s in the

Greater film I discovered, not the arrangements of the scenery changes

Cover my lids and step one step at a rhyme

Left to define the slope of this incline that I’m inclined to travel

Separating the burgers from the cattle

Herd is the face in slurs of battle searches

Cracking those of tractor beams, actors seem stagnant

Surges of liquids like lunging towards your jugular

Chokes the hope under your blanket along with a flashlight

Strong liquor guzzle to erase a bad night

Last night I left right to embrace the height

But juicing the lime, hoping the dripping lemon can shed light

It’s the pure form that flows through my bloodstream

The pure form, only the pure form

Only the pure form flows through my bloodstream

Only the pure form, the pure form

I stand massless, crashings hijack thought train into the next invisible

mountain I see

I’m sensing danger on the starboard bow of my after-death in which I glide

aimlessly through a mind-storm

Beginning to feel like, steer the helm of my ship clear of my hip then I hop

to rhyme’s neighboring dimension

Parallel, the thoughts are hip-hop's stairwell to the next level of existing

‘cause we’re on the upper shelf and I’ll crop your life like a photograph

Now you’re just a head of your former self

Illogic is the paragon of emcee, eating crew after crew of the empty minded,

no substance

I think that’s why I’m still on a mission for egos to devour, reaching

A new plateau of when-it-rains-it-thunderstorms

Words and armies of insects, gettin' venom in ‘em

Pen ‘em to the track, transcend ‘em in fact

Extract the thoughts of the supposedly abstract artist

Of the anti-creative movement I’m here to destroy

Act now if you wish to deploy ‘cause if not, a head-on collision is imminent

and I’m surviving

Didn’t you notice the reaper hovering in your shadow unforeseen of course

I’m ready to perform and your funeral’s the scene of choice

When you go to hell I wanna visit the past on ice water and lower the thermostat

Use the lake of fire as a wishing well, throw in a dime and wish myself back

Some call me out of the frame of normalcy and that would be a correct assumption

‘cause my heart beats the baseline of microphone fiend, pumping liquid-y words

through the arteries

Only the pure form flows through my bloodstream

It’s the pure form that flows through my bloodstream

The pure form, only the pure form

Only the pure form flows through my bloodstream

Only the pure form, the pure form

The pure form, the pure form

Only the pure form

It’s the pure form that flows through my bloodstream

The pure form, the pure form, the pure form