* send corrections to the typist
Acid-wash Guess with the leather patches
Sportin' the white Diadoras with the hoodie that matches
I'm wearing two Swatches and a small Gucci pouch
I could have worn the Lugi but I left it in the house
Now, my niggas Duce and Wayne got gold plates with their names
With the skyline on it with the box link chain
I'm wearing my frames
They match my gear with their tint
And you know Lagerfields is the scent
Now, my nigga Rafael just got his jeep out the shop
Mint green sidekick, custom-made rag top
"Strictly Business" is the album that we play
"You're A Customer"; the pick of the day
Now there's a nigga on the block, never seen him before
Selling incence and oil, my man thinks that he's the law
But why on earth would this be on their agenda?
As he slowly approaches the window..
"Uh, uh, I've seen you before, I've been you and more
I was the one bearing the pitcher of water
I rent the large upper room
Furnished with tidings of your doom
Or pleasure, whichever feathers[?] decree."
Yo Ralph is he talking to me?
"No I'm talking to the sea son's resurrected
I'm the solstice of the day
I bring news from the blues of the Caspian"
My man laughs, he's one them crazy motherfuckers
Turn the music back up - 'cause I'm the E-Double'
"Wait, but but but but I know the volume of the sea
And sound waves as I will
Will you allow me to be at your service?"
My man Ralph is nervous. He believes
That this strange tounge deceives
And maybe he's been informed that
He's pushing gats hidden in the back, beneath the floor mats
Come on Jack, we don't have time
For your bullshit or playin
A'salaam a something' or another
"Wait isn't Juanita your mother?
I told you I know you, now grant me a moment"
At the gates of Atlantis we stand
Ours is the blood that flowed from the palms of his hands
On the plow till earth
Till I'm now
Moon cycles revisited, womb fruit of the sun
Full moon of occasions wave the wolves where they run
And they run towards the light casting love on the winds
As is the science of the aroma of sleeping women
Lost in his eyes they soon reflect my friend's are grinning
But I'm a pupil of his sight
The wheels are spinning
Yo I'll see ya'll later on tonight
In the beginning her tears where the long awaited rains
Of a parched Somali village
Red dusted children danced shadows
In the newfound mound of mascara that eclipsed her face
Reflected in the smogged glass of carlos east street bodega
Learning to love, she had forgotten to cry
Seldom hearing the distant thunder in her lovers ambivalent sighs
He was not honest
She was not sure
A great grandmother
Had sacrificed the family's clarity for God in the late 1800's
Nonetheless she had allowed him to mispronounce her name
Which had eventually led to her misinterpreating her own dreams
And later doubting them
But
The night was young
She the firstborn daughter of water faced darkness and smiled
Took mystery as her lover
And raised light as her child
Man that shit was wild you should have seen how they ran
She woke up in an alley with a gun in her hand
Tupac in lotus form
Ennis'[?] blood on his hands
She woke up on a vessel
The land behind her
The sun within her
Water beneath her
Mushed corn for dinner
Or was it breakfast
Her stomach turned as if a compass
She prayed towards east and lay there breathless
They threw her overboard for dead
She swam silently and fled
Into the blue sea
La soh fa mi, re do, si
The seventh octave
I don't mean to confuse you
Many of us have been taught to sing
And so we practice scales
Many of us were born singing
And thus were born with scales
Mermaids, cooks, and fieldhands
Sang a nightsong by the forest
And the ocean was the chorus
In Atlantis where they sang
Those thrown overboard had overheard
The mystery of the undertow
And understood that down below
There would be no more chains
They surrendered breath and name
And survived countless as rain
I'm the weather man
The clouds say storm is coming
A white buffalo was born
Already running
And if you listen very close
You'll hear a humming
Beneath the surface of our purpose lies
Rumors of ancient man
Dressed in cloud face minstrels in the sky
The moon's my mammy
The storm holds my eye
Dressed in westerlies [?]
Robed by robes ol' man river knows my name
And the reason you were born
Is the reason
That I came
Then she looks me in the face
And her eyes get weak
Pulse rate descends, hearts rate increase
Emcees look me in the face and their eyes get weak
Pulse rates descends hearts rate increase
It's like "beam me up, Scottie", I control your body
I'm as deadly as AIDS when it's time to rock a party
We all rocked fades, fresh faded in ladidadi - and when we rock the mic
Ignore the feminine side - we rock the mic
I presented my feminine side with flowers
She cut the stems and placed them gently down my throat
And these two lips might soon eclipse your brightest hopes
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I was about 6 years old when I listened for the first time "Blowing in the wind" hummed by my mom while she was accompanying me to school, the version was the Italian one, but I liked the rhythm right away.