Ill Kid Format - The 8th Plain [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[SuperTanzi]
Pack my shit into a briefcase
And say peace for 3 days
As I take note of each raindrop
So as to guide my path across
The same plot of desert land
I kneel to praise God
With the palms of my weathered hands
A better man is what I strive on
But now I gotta keep my mind on the 8th plain
So as to maintain
A state of balance
That's why my feet are mad callous
From walking through the sands of animosity and malice
I came back with mental prowess
To grasp what I couldn't reach
It's like imagine thoughts without the faculty of speech
So my man Nietz-sche once beseeched me
To move past the grasp of anything beneath me
Son its easy to wallow in the false bliss
Material things could make one miss
All the beauty and kinda ill shit you could experience
If your hearing this then let it fucking bang out
I put my words down now I can hang out
In the p.m. of rap I be the deacon
So pay attention of the words that I'm speaking


[BMAN]
Bridges must be burned
After the lesson is learned
It's so easy to attach to your past
But only the tightest of clasps
Begin to relax
Once they realize the facts
That even a friend will stab you in the back
In this power struggle
To reign supreme we must dream of this thing
That is the most obscene and do it
Living is just a side effect of a drug called consciousness
Double your dose and pass into ambience
A state of being where your seeing what your breathing
And your heaving cause your not believing its air
And yet without breath you remain alive
Breathing was just a waste of time
This chaos is a gift from the Gods
The immortal moment, the eternal scar
A rip in the quilt on the bed of existence
Revealing underneth just a heap of coincidence
The instance we let go of our resistence
We got blind and resent our curious minds
We found too many words and we find to much thinking
So let's simplify and get back to drinking