| Another morning kneelin' at my altar
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| The day is faced with a bunch of grace
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| On my case in this worldly rat race
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| To keep the pace I depend on ancestors and God
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| And by the way my real name is Todd
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| That’s how my dead ancestors address me
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| That is those that knew me as that
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| My African name hasn’t been revealed yet
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| My knees don’t mind the bendin'
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| As long as the bending keeps me from bending
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| Or compromising my views and pride
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| The inside world gets me prepared for the outside
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| I can’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed
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| As long as my soul has been fine tuned and lubed and
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| Altars are cool for my inner urge to resume
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| To the universe SMPTE tone or metronome
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| Kneelin at my altar (x3)
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| In the morning time I got to kneel at my altar
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| K N E E L I N at my altar
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| Simply put one is naive if they believe
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| That this system does not deceive its
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| Populous dropping us lies in a sack like a stork
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| & there’s stops that drop from Cali to NY
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| Images are burnt into our brain cells to the extent
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| There’s still fumes in a no smoking section of a room
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| Forces are tugging at you from both sides
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| To be centered I pray and pour libation
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| Oh from there it’s diggity diggity done
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| I’ve rinsed my senses & armor alled my armor
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| Instead of being grouchy I’m a natural charmer
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| Chilin' with our friends to relatively no end
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| & oh my Lord I’m feelin' exuberated
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| Cool vibes & disciplined enough to go outside
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| And don’t you know it’s gotta be like that, feeling dope |