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i swear, i care not what the man thinks |
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my plan aint paper til drips with the fruit of my lips |
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yet, if i get no dap from hand clap |
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from rap that i make, my tangible heart break |
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[manchild] |
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with my arms wide open, i hold opponents to my creed |
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in arrangement, shoplifting stolen moments that i need |
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play stick ball with my chances, broke the window on a street car named desire |
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parked next to the chariots of fire |
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[listener] |
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held down in this quagmire tarnishing crowns as i perspire |
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dwindling empires as i plug wires to transcribe my fire |
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filling ears with my word lives wrapped tight to let you describe |
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the feeling through your own eyes |
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[manchild] |
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and they throw their souls up in the air, cause thats the coin they like to toss |
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they want life without the loss, they want christ without the cross |
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pretty faces, empty inside race the runway, although some say |
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gunplay move the crowd someday, by bloody sunday |
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[sev statik] |
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i dont bother writing flows about clothes and cars |
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record sales is not a measure of how dope you are |
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and this knowledge is what seperates us from them |
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i rather snuff the page, then beat it down with my pen |
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[playdough] |
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microphone testing, a blessing indeed |
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i stay pressing the seed, hoping the hearts will receive |
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in grounds fertile, a brown journal holding the picture |
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a mixture of heart plus emotion form my lyric to your spirit |
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hook: |
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this curse i bear, this curse i swear |
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yall never know the despair between the kick and the snare |
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i scream for you to wake up, but you just dont care |
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you sleeping on my speaking, is my worst nightmare |
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[manchild] |
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grit my teeth and close my eyes, still see the misery that kills men |
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ill just take another step and draw the energy from my children |
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until then, ill just feel the pain and let you hurt me |
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cry my tears in a bottle, so you can drink it when youre thirsty |
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[listener] |
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inviting you to constantly listen and not just hear |
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to be here where i am would cause most people to not do this next year |
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for fear that nobody would listen and only sneer |
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believing that your target audience wouldnt cheer |
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makes you so anxious youll just stand clear |
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well heres a tape and to my thoughts i hope you're near |
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to my concepts please adhere your mind and life |
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in the way thats the most advantageous for your to mirror |
|
[playdough] |
|
hey man, i gotta snare and a verse where im bearing a curse |
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got me wondering if smothering my kick to disperse this hi-hat |
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im setting it free, its gotta be the same night i called it day |
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what should i say? |
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[sev statik] |
|
i write massive amounts of rhymes but the masses dont hear |
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dont care about checking me out, i swear |
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i be cursing my verses and these statements i walk on |
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i guess my talk is too rich for these fools, with jewels in my songs |
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hook: |
|
[listener] |
|
bound by the realization of what it is that i get up for |
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because its not the sun not the day |
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i do it for fear that ill lose my perception in the long run |
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losing the contrast proverbially of the night to the days bright sun |
|
[playdough] |
|
a curse is squeezed in an ill verse, to a full bar purse |
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i couldnt spend or bend the rhyme pattern |
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tryna represent with limited content |
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then vent my feelings free inside of these emcees |
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[manchild] |
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see, its hard to hide the fact that its not interesting when im listening |
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me a disappointment go together like cigarettes and nicotine |
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and when it seems my dreams collide with a name on my place card |
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ill drop below the radar, simply focus on the day star |
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[sev statik] |
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its seems to me im hated, cause i choose to be creative |
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im like a leper in a town of fools |
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an outcast making statements against deception |
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sending all of us to hell, worshipping the image of wealth with a poor image of self |
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[listener] |
|
doing work causing hurt always writing verbs |
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speak absurd when you heard how i say these words |
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fleshing out pounds of truth from this recording booth |
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when you finally came to care about this curse i bear |
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hook: |
