| I keep comin' at you
|
| Lyrical raptures capture you
|
| Only if your soul is ready
|
| I comin' after you
|
| Bodysnatchin' you and dismantlin' your crew
|
| It’s Tennesseeans wit nouns and verbs agreein'
|
| Wit higher being
|
| Sendin' messages
|
| Spreadin' through your chest it’s just
|
| Blessings from conception rearrangin' your perception
|
| This planetary lyricist
|
| At least that’s what the Source quotes
|
| Resurrectin' hip-hop on a higher plateau
|
| We crept low
|
| Movin' slow with intention to blow
|
| Carry loads of flows for those who doubt and didn’t know
|
| And circumstances deep in crime intense seat back in the
|
| Center of my body structure
|
| Ready to rupture
|
| At times I sat back to think again and again
|
| How I broke the golden rule by doing business with friends
|
| My mind traveled paths on a search to be free
|
| Suspicion felt corruption had a piece of Gotee
|
| Success had me stressed like the G-Mo-B
|
| Cee-Lo's verse on «Thought Process» was the description of me
|
| But them again I caught the vision that was given within
|
| As a child rockin' mirrors wishin' I was Rakim
|
| On stage
|
| Engagin' state to state
|
| Rampages, airplay, videos, and stretch black limos
|
| The dream that seemed impossible
|
| But now I’m doin' show for thousands
|
| Savin' souls through least
|
| Lacin' spirits concrete
|
| And the belief that I inject on beats
|
| Deplete
|
| God’s word that is instilled in me
|
| To the masses 'til I feel my mission here is complete
|
| And it’s essential
|
| That this is my life after mental
|
| Mental’s over
|
| It’s the dawn of a new day
|
| Out with the old
|
| Different messages to relay
|
| Mental’s gone
|
| It’s time to do it up again
|
| The past is behind
|
| Life after will begin
|
| Now let’s talk
|
| Gather to see who can talk the most noise on an album
|
| You the listeners decide the outcome
|
| How come
|
| It’s our second record without Mental… gettin' the recognition it deserved
|
| This Christian industry is gettin' on my nerve
|
| Serves us right for thinkin' they would believe our vision
|
| Give us proper support
|
| But when it got hectic
|
| Mission abort
|
| Poor sports is what they called us
|
| Now that’s crazy
|
| All cause we wanted to be pushed
|
| Not ambushed and pulled
|
| Off the shelves for being ourselves
|
| Unlike no one else
|
| But still they made comparisons
|
| How Un-American
|
| Strivin' in the midst of warzones and red tape
|
| They try to hold us back
|
| But it’s the black in me that makes me create
|
| Colorful collages hang on the walls of garages
|
| No mirages
|
| What you see is what you get
|
| Ah, that’s that hit
|
| Ah shoots you know I’m in cohoots
|
| With the higher power
|
| Sprinkle me with spirital showers
|
| Drinks anyone
|
| Pourin' glasses of Tang
|
| If you’re drinkin' from me, the flavor’s lemon meringue
|
| I’mma be me despite the shackles of the industry
|
| Bump they last chances
|
| God engineers my circumstances
|
| And hey
|
| I think I like that
|
| He’s the one I confine in
|
| Never dealin' shady and lettin' the enemy slide in
|
| This rap game is all I got to maintain
|
| It keeps me sane in my life
|
| After mental |