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letra de ocean skyline - shinsight trio

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[verse 1: saylove]
yes yes y’all, to the beat y’all
laying  in my bed and i’m having a ball
don’t  want to get out. too cozy, cuddled up, warm
still sleepy. selector why you ring the alarm?
it’s a manic monday. got to love the mundane
it’s  all material for my stand up one day
recycle  everything, yeah dig through trash
can’t wait for my sat-rday suds in bubble baths
these  kids make me laugh, so cute but obnoxious
i make them fruit, they get in cereal boxes
soon off to work, with a smile, i check options
life we only got one, so better that i have fun
maybe  this is art, my true life cartoons
and so much still to pursue, i can’t lose
though, even as i’m dressed in my socks and shoes
i wanna lay down, pout at my clock and hit snooze!!

[verse 2: insight]
cool out chill to my galaxy funk
steady mood of the rhythm keeps you calm composed
travelers that reached a peak see the horizon expose
quality control keep the souls format fresh you can find
find me in the nineties on a four track deck shin
production stay progressive so we can’t half step
emotions energetic architects connect appreciate
the moment currently and not after components of
our structure is a heavenly pasture controlling
it’s organics equalized iq amplified orchestration
infiltrated your crew milkyway landscapes smooth
embedded in chemistry infecting eventually
ex-ternalized entinty to internalize intense telepathy ~
memory re-calibrated to remeasure the recipe
meditate-stars power the nature of melody

[verse 3: sondu]
sunset, one vet rising to moonlight
midnight marauder gotta spit to the tune right
verbally deliver the swoon and watch and watch em cop units
verses to appeal to street cats and those who rock tunics
whether puffin on blacks, blunts or bidis
if you’re needy for the raw then see me, and to the greedy
modern-day minstrel show cats rappin’ for paystubs
rhymes reveal the inner insight makin you say love
100 percent or nothin’, cease the bluffing
no meat all stuffing got the artform suffering’
the mp3s are buffering, the beat glutton’s
mind far too wide to ride in the rut you’re stuck in
son embraces change you search for the dread still
steady walkin in place like a rat on a treadmill
and heads will, till the red swill approach the neck line
until then i keep the quill pen ready to get mine

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