| In 1972 my mother was rushed from a James Brown concert
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| in order to give birth to me my style is black hole
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| most niggas simply sound like earth to me if hip hop were the moon i’d be the first to bleed
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| cyclical sacraments of self for all my peers to read
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| i recite the user night
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| ??? |
| the light for you to read by have you floating on cloud nine without you realizing it’s my mind’s sky
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| and the ground on which you walk is the tounge with which i walk
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| i speak the seas, i root the trees of suburbia and new york
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| city streets can never claim me, that’s why i never sound like you
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| all y’all niggas claim the streets as if paths through the woods aint true
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| you better walk the path, you better do the math
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| cuz your screw face will only make the buddah laugh
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| even if you know the lessons you don’t know the half
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| but don’t take it from me son, take a bath
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| i can recite the grass on the hill and memorize the moon
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| i know the cloud forms of love by heart
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| and have brought tears to the eye of the storm
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| and my memory banks walk ??? |
| forests and amazon river banks
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| and i scream them into sunsets that echo in earthquakes
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| shadows have been my spotlight as i monolouge the night
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| and dialouge with days
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| soliloquys of wind and breeze
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| applauded by sunrays
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| we put language in zoos to observe caged thought
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| and toss peanuts and p-funk at intellect
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| and motherfuckers think these are metaphors
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| i speak what i see
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| all words and worlds are metaphors of ME
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| my life was authored by the moon
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| footprints written in soil
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| the foutain pen of marshen men
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| novelling human toil
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| and yes, the soil speaks highly of me but earth seeds root me poetry
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| and read forests forever through resscitation
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| now
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| maybe i’m too serious
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| too little here to matter
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| though i’m riddled with the reason of the sun
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| i stand up comets with the audience of lungs
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| this body of laughter is it with me or at me?
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| hue more or less
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| human though gender’s mute
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| and the punchline has it’s lifeline at it’s root
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| i’m a star this life of suburbs i commute
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| make daily runs between the sun and earthly loot
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| and raise my children to the height of life and truth |