Lyrics Awakening - CYNE

Awakening

I am Adidas original, deep like a negro spiritual
Be at the podium, a dope individual
Speaking my mind line for line.
What’s happening?
It’s rerun, holding the gun, so «Aye, captain»
Listen up for the fisticuffs—it's Training Day
So light the match and watch the blaze, okay?
For real, son.
What’s the deal, hon?
Selling yourself short like a Porsche on hub caps
I’m all wax.
Listen up, you titty fuck
Is you ready for change?
Not nickels and dimes, punk
Sorry for being vulgar.
I’m not sober
Irritated at those that think the game is over
And still a lot to fight for since '04
Don’t take it in the back on your knees like coke whores
Stand up!
Break the chains and handcuffs
You ain’t a stupid bitch like them chicks in Bang Bus
This be a brand new day
A brave new world so see through the haze
This be the season of the media craze
Listen up, become a audio slave
Into a momentary trance, we ain’t sleeping—we are
Well awake and quite in tune with the rhythm—I am
The rebel, the treble, the voice, the noise, and this is
The moment of rhyme, the time to CYNE, and I am
Kinda like water—silent journey so fluid
Into another world.
Stay mute, but yet fluid, moving
Forth.
Speak, serving as a paradigm
Into a life, I lead a lifestyle I’m
Maybe one in a million.
I’m one of four children
Defying the odds—I'm out building
Big blocks on the pavement for days
When it rains and my luck run out, I can’t pay rent
I start gazing at stars—it's amazing
How everything’s aligned.
Sometimes, I spend days in
Like «Fuck going out.»
We’re art.
I’m showing Clyde
Dropped out of school, but cool—never showing doubt
Coverage under fire.
Most men are liars
They never sold crack or no dope suppliers
I don’t need to sell that in my rhyme, though
Crack kill black male quick or he die slow
Or locked in a cell with plans, but can’t prevail
It’s summertime and damn, the block is hot as hell
But evolution came, awakening the pain
Peace, love, and happiness is strange when they feel the same
I am the redeemer, rejuvenating self in the speaker
So follow the leader.
I got Growing Pains like Ben Seaver
So feed the meter—the levels overshadow believers
Not overly meager.
My head dreadlocks—nappy receivers
Receive reasoning, salt-in-the-wound seasoning
Getting up in the morning and hoping that you believe in me
Awakening, making me focus from the
See, maybe we just need to get up to make a scene
Into a momentary trance, we ain’t sleeping—we are
Well awake and quite in tune with the rhythm—I am
The rebel, the treble, the voice, the knowise, and this is
The moment of rhyme, the time to CYNE, and I am