(Chorus - RKZ)

Where I'll be, I'll wait here for,
Elevate in spite of war.
Where I'll be (be), where I'll be (be).
Where I'll be, you won't ignore,
I'll be free, you won't explore,
you can't see, 'cause you ain't me.
You ain't me.

(Verse One - Chakkra Tara)

At the top of the mountain we reaching for an ideal, that'll appeal the ears whom are concealed.
With a specific selection heard not to keep your mind still. But the minds still fragmented,
into fermented mentions we question Heaven 'til there is another 9/11.
Eleven men I call bretherin shot by a firing squad, we squading to tell the message.
The law will not allow us so I keep my 20/20 illuminated 'til the hate is dilated got that one brow up.
Express your love, express the emotion back when I was down in Guyana the toast would toast to the coldest,
frozen bodies bodied by a shottie, a 187 on every block the Devil has got me.
Nowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say, but nothing will be heard if you whisper across from me.
Talking 'bout you better, talking how you get up but it'll be your death when success will suddenly slip up.
You watching me while I'm up on the throne, couldn't become what your father had grown, am I wrong?
For opening up the books that were given just to be strong, my life is lived long.

Long live the brother of poems... now let it be gone.

(Chorus)

(Verse Two - Chakkra Tara)

As I approach the establishment statements so self evident.
The intent meant ornament worldly prevalence under the sediment.
Made to level the spectrum, the city cut in sections, this where murders never mentioned.
Took the soul of my father, now I elude through the tension,
laying upon this ridged planet banished from the heart of a touch I clutch to the crux hoping memories.
Fade through love that was once with the one above,
elements ellipse a man, emulating fascination from works of Egyptian hands.
Where I'll be is in the plan, I just have to make it stand.
Elevate through war, elevate through the sentiment that we hang through the hang time.
Flickering the switch that determines who gets to live as disciples titled, The New Vines.
My shambla's trauma caused in the sauna of Dalai Lamas, Allah couldn't find the proper nostalgia to crop the slakah.
The Lord Chief Rocka, number one Chief Rocka, salute to all my troops that won't get to re-coop.
The revolution's instituting the truth through our recruits.

(Chorus 'til End)