Rage of Beats

My mind caged of patterns and patterns of beats.
I step up when i got a lot in my mind.
I made my freshest step up because it was cool.
I used to improve my skill with practice and drills.
Top Rock... Six steps... Swipe... Freeze...
As I go along, I realized I was natural when I catch the beat to make my move.

In the circle, I am who i am, speaking the language of beats.
Claps and applause.

Actually, i was the one who started from easy, until the easy got hard.
Until the six steps turn into cc's, cc's into swipe.
Until I lose steps.
Until my muscles got tear.
Falling down from handstand.
Getting bruises over bruises.

Until my fist stomp on the floor
Never back down
until i know...
Beats...
Me...
In the heart, there is the language of the beats
Heal the bruises and tears.