Roots Manuva: Sinking sands

Alright, okay I arise in the morntime and cut through fresh books Put them old Bruck trainers on my foot For I am the picky mystic, I max the most Drinking ginseng tea, eating huddle bread toast While my skeet nags, jacks up my coat She don't like the smell of my smoke She says my eyes dem is red And I need to go and fix up my head Honey, my head is fixed I'm getting deep with my purpose Synchronizing to the mystics of cosmic energy My specialty be to write buff raps Weakhearts, they hate me like my name was poll tax I don't part for none, I be the Godsend, God gifted I work nuff shifts turning a penny to a pound >From a pound to jacks, from a jacks to a score My brainwaves is twisted, my tactics is raw Cause I [Chorus 2x] Grip my teal boom as hard as I can So I can find me a path through the sinking sands [Sober Now] Shit's hit the fan but I'm not the fan the shit's hit It's the man with the bad arse bitch in town Put her into the circles but she tore them down And I frown, but in my heart I know it's all good So I stick around like a true friend should And they say that some things in life can't be really mended But only time will tell how well you and your spark prevail Try not to implore to the stereotype factors That they brand us with cause there's enough love to give Oh, Lord! What's happening to me? All these situations I'm checking with intense scrutiny I need to slow down there and hold the horses And just concentrate on paving the right courses So, so, so, so, so I [Chorus x3] [Roots Manuva] Putting the reins on the joke ting in rap ting We be inner city sorcerer rebel types, we roll! Snowball effect planet wide Diving and ducking, constantly rucking with the devil Actions speak so we get active Roots-fi perspective holds my mental in position I supervision coach my decision Cause there's may routes to take, much money to make I fight not to buckle under pressure I'm on a quest, got to find that real self Uno priority be wealth in the mental Cause nothing down sweet like the feeling I reap When I plan with my peeps and them plans come together Strong and cold-sheist, them coast the ill weather I weren't supposed to be but still am Vibes catch a hold of my mind, I write jams Take it to the mans dem for the instant rewind' If I gets no rewind still I pay fools no mind Cause Hylton Smythe never took no bribe I be independent, my jacket stay stinking Nuff of them be thinking that the smile's off-key They're right, I'm full of mad eccentricities I believe in the power of the G-o-d While nuff of them be burning their obeah candle I strap on my sandal and walk like Jesus [Chorus 4x]