[Intro: Verb T]
Yeah, It's the Four Owls baby
The Four Owls (Owls)
Yeah, Owls (Owls), What (What)
Dreaming I can picture it, Yeah
[Verse 1: Fliptrix]
Lights down low so the mood turns ambient
Visions transcend but the time length's transient
Void of the camera lens poised with the valiant
Stallion style on the beat when I'm banging it
Rap brings cures like oil from the cannabis
In the zone, no objects inanimate subjects comparative
I open your passages, vinyl spin round slowly expose the narratives
Get the pen then I desecrate sampling, used to be blank now the pattern style's epic
Mad psychedelic don't rap hypothetic, sleep paralysis leaves the body lying severed
Elevating presence in a setting unmeasured, messages develop like photogenic evidence
Unfold your relevance compose my sentiment stone cold but excellent
[Verse 2: BVA]
I walk the lines to the beat hand style flares around with my thoughts like I'm living in side of my speech
Painting a horizon under my feet, or a sunset, drawing out the things I haven't done yet
Or I scribble it out then walk away from the mess jump to the right side, one flick and It's out of your head
New page, new day but It's still the same book man, a never ending verse with no chorus or hook plan
Now there's three me's, we're sat in the conference agreed no regrets but being followed by my conscience see it on the paper as a grey cloud of nonsense
That's drawn by myself it come to life and it wants some, jumping over full stops like I've got a stutter
Something "dot dot" the honest ramblings of a nutter
I feel the breeze blow but my pages don't flutter
End with a "Dear John" or and "Oh dear" that's muttered
Yeah, It's the Four Owls baby
The Four Owls (Owls)
Yeah, Owls (Owls), What (What)
Dreaming I can picture it, Yeah
[Verse 1: Fliptrix]
Lights down low so the mood turns ambient
Visions transcend but the time length's transient
Void of the camera lens poised with the valiant
Stallion style on the beat when I'm banging it
Rap brings cures like oil from the cannabis
In the zone, no objects inanimate subjects comparative
I open your passages, vinyl spin round slowly expose the narratives
Get the pen then I desecrate sampling, used to be blank now the pattern style's epic
Mad psychedelic don't rap hypothetic, sleep paralysis leaves the body lying severed
Elevating presence in a setting unmeasured, messages develop like photogenic evidence
Unfold your relevance compose my sentiment stone cold but excellent
[Verse 2: BVA]
I walk the lines to the beat hand style flares around with my thoughts like I'm living in side of my speech
Painting a horizon under my feet, or a sunset, drawing out the things I haven't done yet
Or I scribble it out then walk away from the mess jump to the right side, one flick and It's out of your head
New page, new day but It's still the same book man, a never ending verse with no chorus or hook plan
Now there's three me's, we're sat in the conference agreed no regrets but being followed by my conscience see it on the paper as a grey cloud of nonsense
That's drawn by myself it come to life and it wants some, jumping over full stops like I've got a stutter
Something "dot dot" the honest ramblings of a nutter
I feel the breeze blow but my pages don't flutter
End with a "Dear John" or and "Oh dear" that's muttered
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