All of the Lights...

I think I see the lines, 
I think I see a sign, 
I think I see the sky 
as an intelligent design,
I think I feel the aura 'round the lights from the behind
of a shiny silver Camry, 
driving families through the grind.
It's a model of it's kind,
and a product of the times,
the essence of the prime 
can never be defined 
by my metaphorical rhetorical 
of the ambient lighting of Zion
coming down on my mind
eating fries, getting wise, 
rolling joints in the back of the ride 
on the surface of the binder that I scribble out my rhymes...

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