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Verse One: Gift of Gab |
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Sittin on top of the bay, watchin the tide |
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It's time to break the tension away, come take a ride |
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As you enter the dimension of the crew SoleSides |
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it ain't nuttin goin on but a party |
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Now brothers wanna flex but I'm over they heads |
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I got the funky type of style to rip your vocals to shreds |
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I'm never runnin from the Feds wearin red Pro Keds |
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Cause -- I ain't did nuttin to no-BODY! |
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I dedicate that line to Shack from South Central |
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Not sayin I'm the baddest but I know I got potential |
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For every black man hung lyrically I lynch you |
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Your style is kinda dry hope my melody can quench you |
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My soul is one with all although my ego is against you |
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See rap is a raw meat, so now I got to mince you |
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I'm playin rappers out like an old pair of gym shoes |
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I can do anything, I can do anything |
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Crusin down the street in my six-four Impala |
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Is what I'd like to be doin if only I had the dollars |
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A baller ain't a baller if he ain't got balls |
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A scholar ain't a scholar if he ain't got scho-lastic |
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education, and if not that, then learn from life |
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Beyond all of the material crap |
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A human ain't a human if he doesn't make mistakes |
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And the name of this song is Swan Lake |
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Verse Two: |
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A planet ain't a planet if it don't have wars |
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A battle ain't a battle if you don't catch scars |
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A mind that ain't inquisitive really doesn't got |
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shit to live for if you can't explore the |
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realms of thought you ought not test lest |
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you be chomped up, like a pop rock, stopped for a |
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bead from the weed lady, thought it was the bomb |
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Really wasn't nuttin but a bag of strong palms |
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Lost twenty dollars, didn't get high |
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Maybe next time I use my finances right |
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Live another day, learn another lesson |
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Ain't no need to get my mental status cold stressin |
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that it's so ill that it's fo'-real that it's |
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no skill displayed, de shades gone now |
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So it's time to build my own umbrella |
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Tell it tell her hella mellow fellows loungin |
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Better bread I never fled a header of the sounds and |
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all I wanna do is run my own universe |
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Grab the mic and let my spirit just FLOCK when I croon a verse |
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Mind over matter, spirit over mind |
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A doobie and a skin funky breakbeats and rhymes |
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A true blue homey to the end reminiscin with your |
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sister in the living room den |
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A life with a plan nine acres on a land |
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Building self by yourself helpin out a fellow man |
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Prepare for the essence when your inner soul's free |
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Before the departure plantin of the right seed |
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I think what everybody's strivin for is peace of mind |
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I'm thinkin the world is full of inner places that are out there to find |
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Manipulated minds need to make an escape |
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And the name of this song is Swan Lake |
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Manipulated minds need to make an escape |
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And the name of this song is Swan Lake |
