of the

You see time stops still, in the eye of the storm
The foundations of my home, where my rhyming was born

It's a rhythmic reality, a remedy through riddles
Where love's a hurricane and they meet me in the middle

It's the exotic breeze, at the festival night show
That hot sweaty air, with the twist of that hydro

It's the power of my passion, the picture my pen paints
Caressing the canvas, to put my click in a zen state

It's that zone with my thought, the peace when it's starlit
That blazing fireplace, bare feet on the carpet

Or sitting on my porch, where this one sways freely
And right through the night, until the sun rays greets me

It's the past love, still cooking inside
It's that warm fuzzy feeling, when I look in her eyes

It's pouring out my heart and soul, when I'm flipping the gems
It's catching my dreams, lost in Pulp Fiction again,

it's like