It's like this y'all: RnBism, straight up; they think they've got ya...right around to the itty bitty, let's get down to the Nitty Gritty. Dem that claim they Dick Ryders. I mean, 'Where is my Mind?' Damn, those fools are every where, don't matter what you wear...just dissolver ya'll for real. And yu nuw dats all 'bout the bling bling, the ice on hire purchase, the fake ass jeep beep. B'come almost a truism to let fly with that 'Money Eats all around me' type shit. But me and Brother Devro are flowin' pas that now. Onto a higher levels, up into the realm of the Black Pixel (the 23rd layer) where there is nothing, not one, no body, just Dawhispers... and as the dawn hits ain't nothing going on but a hole in the sun.