Artist: Quest Rah Album: Ancient Tapes 2 Song: The Window Typed by: Quest Rah [Verse 1] Thru the misty window Smoke rises like the puff from indo You think its cush but these tribulations I seen tho Strung up and whipped flipped Skin opens and blood drips When you in ya ride in deep state of mind ya pump this I see Local smack spots locals smack what Rusty backdrops I Like drums tighter than genesis tank tops Soon as the needle drops I write these bars Craniums get rocked Cos you the slave steppin the czar Write lines royal like a Shah Kinda like Fidel wit the cigar Maybe mans mite dig up these bars to learn about their past I'm tryina seek out my essence But outside its unpleasant What do you see thru ya window glass Do you see the gold and glitter or do see him In the corner bones cold wit the shiver Merciless times you'll get left behind and flushed wit the detergents Urban lurkin murky talesforever waiting a day ta tip the scales This sight is pale in comparisontryina slice my worldly desires like a Saracen Reflective mood thru the window bars inspirin Reflective mood thru the window bars bars I'm writin em.. Aiyyo my window journeys this is my window journal Aiyyo my window journeys this is my window journal What do you see thru ya window pain? I see the pain [Verse 2] Futuristic universal like its Arabic scripted Early for the train in case I miss it The rhyme sometime is hidden sometime explicit But exquisite trapped by the system so I diss it Im free in the heart to reach heights beyond the universe Im only trapped in the system if I let em get me first So try fill my mind and heart wit divine remembrance These words I write are art folded in a ring and birds carry the scroll to far distant provinces from valleys to offices reflect the position of a young boy lookin out at his war torn waste land cracked glass window rusty steel blade in hand cos they came for his pops and he know not what awaits him and his mother his mother says things will be better up in jannah what else can she say scopin an adversity Thru winds that be murky see They try exploit souls like world bank does African resources Offering dollars for their gold slave trader forces But gold is worth more then paper so I try and write wisdom so gold lifts up off my paper Tongues a weapon yo sharp wit the razor now I'm lookin out like those who await a saviour Aiyyo my window journeys this is my window journal Aiyyo my window journeys this is my window journal