Archive | January, 2011

Beach Chair

8 Jan
Life is but a dream to me

I don’t wanna wake up
30 odd years

Without having my cake up

So I’m about my paper
24/7, 365, 366 in the leap year
I don’t know why we here
But since we gotta be here
Life is but a beach chair
Went from having shabby clothes
To crossing over Abbey road
Hear my angel singing to me: Are you happy Phil?
I just hope I’m hearing right
Karma’s got me fearing life
Mumbi are you praying for me?
See I got demons in my past

So I got daughters on the way
If the Prophecy’s correct

Then the child shall have to pay
For the sins of the father
So I barter my tomorrows against my yesterdays
In hopes that she’ll be okay

And when I’m no longer here
To shade her face from the glare
I’ll give her my share of The Battousai
And a new beach chair
I hear my angels sing:

Life is just a dream

Life is but a dream to me…
Gun shots sing to these
Other guys

But lullabies

Don’t mean a thing to me

I’m not afraid of dyin’
I’m afraid of not tryin’
Everyday hit every wave like I’m Hawaiian
I don’t surf the net
No I never been on MySpace
Too busy letting my voice vibrate
Carving out my space
In this world of fly girls
Cut throats and diamond cut ropes I twirls
Benzes round corners where the sun don’t shine
I let the wheels give a glimpse of hope in ones grind

Some said: “Hov how you get so fly?”
I said: “From not being afraid to fall out the sky.”

My physical’s a shell

So when I say farewell
My soul will find an even higher plane to dwell

So fly you shall

So have no fear

Just know that life is but a beach chair.

Life is but a dream can’t mimic my life
I’m the thinnest cut slice
In the cut, the winners cup
With winters rough enough to interrupt life
That’s why I’m both saint and sinner…nice

This is Phil everyday no compromise
No compass

Comes with this life

Just eyes

So to map it out you must look inside
Sure books can guide you but your heart defines you, chica

You, Corazon, is what brought us home
In great shape like Heidi Klum

Maricon

I am on
Permanent vacay

Life is but a beach chair
This song is like a hallmark card

Until you reach here
So till she’s here
And she’s declared
The heir
I will prepare

A blueprint for you to print

A map for you to get back
A guide for your eyes just so you won’t lose scent
I’ll make a stink for you to think

I ink these verses
Full of prose

So you won’t get conned out of 2 cents

My last will and testament I leave my heir,
My share of roc-a-fella records and a shiny new beach chair.

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: