Soul Like Khan

by Soul Khan

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6:30 am 01:03
it took me twenty three years just to write this verse i felt the sum of all fears in a lightning burst i was shaking at the window like pookie with a pipe but there ain't no director when the movie is your life looked for answers in a book, but it takes too long and it ain't like nina simone can make new songs they said, if i speak my mind, i'll be despised to liquor, punchlines, asscheeks, and thighs but i'm just too potent, i get you open, like a flesh wound hoping that the fresh truths soak in oh, they got flow? well, i exhale oceans how could they not know? they up the next male's colon this is for the pipe-dreamers with the 9-to-5 fever the hardest working fathers and the friday night divas i dedicate my resume to all my light sleepers who stay awake and wonder where they future might lead us
1: they got my melatonin hella open, y'all, i'm sleeping on 'em but i'm so beyond that next shit, i'm quantum leaping on 'em and they're lambs to the slaughter, so i gotta feast upon 'em but j57 told me not to speak upon 'em well, gotta get your, gotta get your, gotta get your bars up i connect that live electric shit that lit the stars up y'all just bosses, i'm walking with a halo the way they're politicking got my mama sick, it's shameful this anglo's slick as a raincoat, get vehicular mangled if you think you can range rove with this con queso-getter from grayskull that delivers the fuego to incinerate them same old cliques they let the flood gates open, i don't like the result and i ain't concerned with swagger, homie, i'm an adult so fuck a photo up if you're still here for the music and holler at your man that be chilling with the chewstick hook: and the people sing can't you hear 'em sing? and they all sing so let's all sing and the people sing can't you hear 'em sing? and they all sing so let's all sing 2: mama-se, mama-sa, mama-ku-suck on my dick if you think that i ain't that sick you wanna clap that gauge? money act your age i got a massive range like i'm satchel paige i'm living proof that even if you sacrifice you only get a lil' dap as your asking price and seems like the ink dried all too fast you signed on that line but all you ass y'all some borderline barnacles, welcome to the chronicles so old school that my molecules got monocles fine women caught a few, ice dripping? nada. you ain't built nothing but a little lego block or two ain't a person i can shoot, that was a child once who never got a chance 'cause he ran with the wild ones rather sip a 22 than throw a clip in 22, 'cause going to a funeral ain't really nothing fun to do hook
koncept: i see your team is asleep but sleep is seeming to be keeps em reaching for dreams til I defeat em in speech we be speaking emcees and being free is a need i see a reason preaching like they was teaching to me 2010 run events nothing less than sold out moneys spent to run again tell your friends to go now updating statuses?, upgrade your caliber hold weight in your own hand no chance to flatter us it's make it and taking it I'm greedy with the whole stash can't recycle flows I believe it's what we call trash hockey puck knuckle punch evacuate the premises always has to happen drinking Jack in great measurements slap shots break glass should of worn your face mask you skating pacing on the ring I'm bringing what you lames lack hmmm, just the face off a stick to your abdomen have to set the fight the degree that we master in homeboy sandman: live from the dead of the winter with no coat and no skully here's one verse you can take personally get served, no shoes, no shirt, no money my balls don't break nor burst for nobody my clique nah trust conduct our own studies and stick cops up for donuts go nutty back before all these condos shot up everywhere so if you got manos put em in the air thump knock babies from car seats haunt Queens stomp crop circles in concrete Boy done broke outta quarantine hopped up off the top turnbuckle on your uncle and auntie boy king, brassknuckled and undaunting swashbuckler speech beyond your belief how much more unprofessional can anybody be? now everybody sleep 8thw1: i don't know man, i'm just not feeling it it's kind of hard for me to take this serious do you know the power that i'm dealing with when all i do is talk and they're like, "he's killing it?" so i'm winging it like paul mccartney crash the party with a baby in a car seat then bag a bad chick give her the game and now the dame playing with my joystick like atari to marty mcflys i'm the future take you out of character, you shook...michael j. fox i like it, i take it, fuck "may i" just say "bye" like confused gay guys but i don't need to be around that i need a crib somewhere in the adirondacks c.b. radio's only contact grow a beard, contemplate not coming back 'cause other than a-ok and the brown bag i ain't heard nothing past not bad so my favorite mc is me and homeboy bad soul khan: i'm a bad motherfucker and a passionate lover looking for a smooth chick with her ass on the cover people say soul khan is delusional because i don't hold back on these juveniles you see, i too once was a clueless child so i'mma flunk your high school musical ain't none jihad-er, time bomb with a lit wick it's all fun and games, 'til a socket gets slick ricked concocting a sick, sick, sick (666) scenario even my burial plot probably got big twists just like shyamalan, yes i kamika-- --ze these weak-kneed automatons and you can see me at comic con teaching the padawans how to geek out like i'm leading a synagogue phenomenal with that heatrock spittle leave the beat so brittle it should be hospitalized and that's that, homie, soul knows best my tracks slap like motorboating oprah's breasts brown bag, a-ok, we're the coldest yet we run the whole damn table, money, fold the deck
1: it's like straight from the city of sunshine and silicone even on the busiest streets, you still feel alone unless you're repping a set or set to direct a mill or millimeter's how they measure respect they say the weather is best, but sometimes it rains and sometimes it bleeds 'cause drugs line the veins of all kinds of fiends, they all got the need in the hills and the ghetto and what lies between got one life to lead, but two different faces prime real estate for the youthful and famous too many cops are abusive and racist but white folks still staying glued to the matrix chicks drop stacks for rags on rodeo then they hit the strip to sniff some more yayo dudes on the street sipping forties like they're drano the city where the angel pawned his own halo hook: let's take a trip to the place that birthed me home of roscoe's and big game worthy los angeles, i can't love it enough so no matter where i'm at, i put my w's up 2: now, i could spit a reference to different intersections but that wouldn't capture california in its essence the asphalt is scalding beneath your chucks wherever we post up, there's burrito trucks and the traffic in the city turns the corner to a jukebox bumping ever genre from foreigner to tupac peace to the homie selling oranges a few blocks up, now he's got a small fortune in his tubesocks it's where i learned to freestyle with ease and fluency used to hear people preach peace and unity the women were an infinite spectrum of thickness and greeted every increase in heat with nudity now i'm in the east with a dream and a tunnel vision you gotta leave home to see home for what it isn't so some day, i'll return like the sun arisen and on my mama's mama, i hope that nothing's different hook repeats
For That 03:33
1: before terrorism had arisen to fight i'd stay up for the wake up show and i'd listen at night just to know what was officially tight, get it cassetted made my fat tapes while classmates sweated for extra credit but me, son? forget it, i achieved under now suckers shit bricks whenever i breathe thunder but i wasn't always down with what cool cats were doing couldn't cop jordans, i rocked patrick ewings damn, i was a shoe-in for the nerdiest, four eyed geek who was the wordiest, but turned impervious when the cipher got open, assholes stopped provoking quoting soul khan 'cause i was more than just a token... ...melanin deficient fellow with an eloquence and vision feeling them hello kittens but they were so seldom licking probably got you thinking, "damn, he's attached" but hip hop kept me afloat after the family collapsed the panic attacked, my father didn't plan to come back but the boom bap never let my sanity crack no the boom bap never let my sanity crack yeah, the boom bap gets mad dap for that hook: if it wasn't for the records you gave me don't know which way that life would take me the 1-2, 1-2 that raised me i'mma play you 'til they crossfade me i never thought i'd make song a for this but here i go with a jawn for that here i go with a jawn for that end of the day, i did it all for that 2: so even though i'm the golden era's grandson it ain't fair to say we don't compare to that one i thought they called it the past, 'cause all of it passed (can i kick it?) damn, i shouldn't bother to ask if it's new, some of you won't put your hands up to it i love the old school, but i ain't handcuffed to it but i can't keep just rapping about rapping without feeling a little vomit in the back of my mouth too much to address and the youth's unimpressed it's hard enough today to speak to you in the flesh to the youngins that are plugged in the subject we're discussing remember that it's more than just a mumble and percussion it's rats in the front room and roaches in the back it's two dope boyz steady posting in the 'lac it's bonita applebaum that we're hoping to attract and the boom bap gets mad dap for that hook
1: i moved to the city with an ideal vision but i feel quite different since my light bill's risen 'cause my life's real mission is to entertain and this game's never played on a level plane so while these groupie motherfuckers getting center stage i open up to earn the dues that they never paid they try to piss on my lawn and call it lemonade so i'mma have to settle this the armageddon way well, i think middle finger number one is reserved for backpackers that act like they're muttering nerds you can't carry the torch when you're so spineless (are those glasses a fashion choice?) no, i'm blind, bitch and middle finger number two belongs to the tweeters who can't pack a show but got an onslaught of readers i sweat for my props and i spend my profits while you only get pounds for a trending topic hook by deejay element 2: they say blood's thicker than poland spring but to some folks there isn't a colder drink so keep your veins covered when these fanged suckers approach 'cause if you talk out of turn they gonna puncture your throat and i've been told i'd be signed in a new york minute if i wore tighter jeans and a new york fitted "if that doesn't work, we can try a different gimmick, though do a fiddler on the roof and put you in hasidic clothes" label heads told me i'm the freshest in the east a menace and a beast without the kennel and the leash battle vets told me i'm a legend in the streets but if i want something higher, they won't let me get a piece but who's to say i can't kumite 'em out their foolish ways and get a new arrangement? otherwise i'm administering euthanasia at the last second, i'mma ask 'em, "who can save you?" hook
Shitted On 02:46
1: i was beyond aching to the break of dawn taking pictures in my mind of the way she got quaking limbs to settle with heavenly palms gracing arms that'd be reaching for the shape of her escaping i wonder where it went, you know that good old sensation that had our bodies fastened, now it's got me asking was it just a smokescreen from the very opening of this close thing that fell apart into loathing? but if it was sincere, then tell me nah, nah, if it was sincere, then really how'd the hell we end up like this? you living easy, but me i'm looking lifeless when people see me, they're calling you a trife bitch they don't understand, well neither did i too bad the pills didn't keep you from breeding them lies when i was deep in them thighs infatuation turned to anxious waiting for you to give me another reason to cry hook: i feel shitted on with my hands on my head and my chest still beating though you left me for dead i feel shitted on was i the man of your dreams or just a meaningless piece of your plans and your schemes? i feel shitted on you know i'd treat you like a goddess gave you everything though you could never keep a promise shitted on my house'll never be your home if you're the only one then, yo, i'd rather be alone 2: well, putting back together all the pieces was tough i wore my heart on my sleeves, now i bleed through the cuffs wasn't fucking with no empty headed creature of lust she was my earth, wind, and fire, burning deep through the crust but then suspicion arose and what this chicken disclosed rendered her love letters phony fictional prose it was blood, guts, and whiskey lungs rusted, sixty cigarettes a day but i cut back to fifty double that in years and you may grasp the solitude wastelands i'm crawling through but i gotta pretend i'm perfectly polished, new, and ready for display on that show room floor but the salt of her lips keeps these old wounds sore i'm needing more than medicine love was full length so i wore it as a second skin now i want to tear it off and throw it to the reckless wind and flip a middle finger the direction that it's exiting hook
Hook: suck my dick lick my nuts (repeats) 1: when the city collapses into splinters and ashes are you really going to be happy with them silly contraptions? the ipod, the iphone, oh, my god, is my home just another hard drive to hold shit that i own? i know, i know, that it sounds a little cliche mc so-and-so on the mountain getting preachy someone always twisting up your words like you're t-pain but to keep that money right, you have got to remain silent as the moment when you're lying in an open casket and they ask how to divide up what you're holding cash flow might slow your last cold night but an asshole's life's still an asshole's life i want to smoke the same shit castro likes while dummy type honeys say that's so tight collect money like i passed go twice and bet it on decepticons in hasbro fights hook 2: they say americans are arrogant and fat as the gats that they carry in iraq but i barely can attack my own shadow, can't load that ammo, it's a grown man's battle they ain't airing it on smack when ike turner passed on his life's work and passion all we could remember was the wife that he slapped on so even though the music is supposed to be the measurement i'll never lift an f'ing fist unless it's in defense of this liberty to rock bells, even if the stock sales drop, well, i fell in the land of the blind, you die or you talk braille tough as an ox tail to travel this far when your cars on the wrong rail so, if you do connect with that future you're expecting you should use a breath mint and lose that stupid weapon boogaloo electric? nah, too broke i told you all i know but i'm glad we spoke hook
1: i be the s-o-u to the fucking twelfth letter never change styles just so i can sell better been a lot of things but a fool ain't one got a food chain gun and the wu-tang's lungs i spew flames from an esophagus clogged up with butane you thinking, who came as hot as this new age metropolis dude made in optimus prime's image? i'm living proof, ain't no stopping this small young whitey called khan almighty suckers get mad 'cause they're squad all likes me what america wants most, since ice went gold soul been nice since the ice been cold i speak like each word emerged from the lord himself even if it didn't, i guess it sort of helped see, i ain't ever been afraid of global warming 'cause the same shit happens when soul's performing hook: the city's on fire and they trying to blame me fought with the devil now he's trying to frame me nobody listens but parasites 'cause they don't know the meaning of fahrenheit (repeats) 2: i got that beast disease, i need a freak to please a mix of beyonce and alicia keys nah, she want a dude that's deep with cheese so if i try to kick game, i catch three degrees and that frozen shoulder ain't ever going to turn so here are a few of the things i'd burn cartier glasses and louis v purses the money of the fools that think that she's worth it the nikes of them white boys that all rock dunks when four years ago they were hard rock punks i'm more than my sneakers, torching your speakers got it on lock like the warden that greets you born with a fever, i'm holding a cleaver to turn these pit bulls into golden retrievers told that my features ain't going to sell i said you better hope that there ain't no hell hook
So I Says 02:37
1: doctor, doctor, give me the news i'm a hostage, hostage to women and booze and my posture's awkward from getting abused by these gods and monsters that spit in my food i don't care about the numbers that you gon do this is music, motherfucker, not sudoku they say that life's a bitch like cujo's boo so i have her in the kitchen mixing culo stew and i dare you to test-drive these two old shoes every minute there's some shit i've got to sumo through on some yokozuna to these no-show losers like a tone loc tune, i'm gonna lose my cool and i've been up and down this u.s. of a-holes and given each one a different reason to hate soul you thought it was transfats or maybe the nasdaq nah, it's an honest man making your hands clap hook 2: now for my next trick i will remove my limbs and make them levitate through the use of hymns i'll have them pour me out a cup of juice and gin and let them loose to execute their ruthless whims on the disney imagery that we've known give me liberty or give me dome that ain't fair, why? 'cause i need both i heard freedom's fly, but she don't deepthroat but is it chauvinism if i just blow my wisdom in the throat of women that i support? and listen, it ain't like a little protein shake is gonna do shit to flip roe v wade so, whatcha want, soul? thick thighs on the pole so, whatcha want, soul? a little self control so, whatcha want, soul? no more sean bells and my name up in flames, s-o-u-l hook
hook: sometimes it's too hard to read between the lines that your own hand has scrawled and the one that you most want and need may be the one who's last to call soul khan: first the slum village breaks up now every day I wake up somebody got a problem with soul but if you didn't know dilla til there was no dilla then we probably on an opposite road some thought this record store was just another stepping stone but its a place that gave me more than you could ever know a lotta big names claimed it but they never showed til they saw the fat lady breaking out her metronome you'd kill a man that brings a knife into a gunfight i'd resurrect him with a vial full of sunlight this music hustle got me fighting for my lovelife trying to make her understand that lightning never struck twice my homie sene is getting twisted off the spliff aroma i'm bottle tippin honest injun on my sixth corona it's like we on a mission to discover different comas cause these days shit is uglier than women bowlers i need to cool my jets before all this foolishness leaves me with nothing except by a stomach full of new regrets i ain't trying be the dolphin in the tuna net i wanna be the oval officer that you elect so i'mma hitchike the galaxy without a guide i see the blueprint shine above the town in white my eyes are green lanterns and behind my speech patterns there's a wailing wall of every blessing that I count at night hook my shot glass magnifies this empty space I'm in my shot glass magnifies it my shot glass magnifies my shot glass magnifies it my shot glass magnifies my shot glass magnifies this empty space I'm in
Minyan 03:28
i heard their chitter chatter like soul be acting foul all holier than thou while they hold the golden cow no minerals or vitamins, that ain't gonna feed ya we live in an environment where rap is anesthesia so don't be afraid of what i'm offering you i just got a couple questions like i'm audio two like what's it gonna take for me to be the top billa? but what's the fucking point if i can never work with dilla? we went from true schooling it to just youtubing it fuck your website and the asshole that googled it i want to make music and them panties drop but leave the braindead chickens at the candyshop you see i ain't the kind of dude that they sweat so hard i push a 2009 yellow metrocard and if i'm talking 'bout you, the bless your stars 'cause if you don't face the truth then you get no scars from cuts to bruises, my flesh is a road map between then and now and i wish i could go back to the little kid that always had the biggest mouth and say, "i know it's hard, but you really gotta stick it out" one, two, three mississippi four, five, come on, get with me six, seven, heaven won't lift me eight, nine lives for the shifty ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten, ten it's like ten times a day, i pray for something more than a bitter end (repeats) it's like ten times a day i play the janitor sweeping up the stairway to heaven clutching the banister and each step's a mile high so i ascend with deep breaths and wild eyes and never lose my stamina whether god exists or is just a fraud or myth he better tell me what to build before the fucking water shifts i was named for my grandmother's very young brother who was shot and buried with others in various clusters he was slain at sixteen, so while you play with sixteens i'mma always hold it down for the weight of his dreams painting lush hopes with brush strokes as thick as curvaceous hips and praying when it dries, it's as lovely as their nakedness i ain't ever made a switch like autotune abusers this is 1995 colliding with the future maybe i ain't got the kind of style that you're used to fuck it, i've been writing since the crying of the rooster
1: i'm a hell of a geek with intelligent speech small time but my skills will embellish my reach fuck the upscale life and the elegant eats just a grilled cheese and french fries and tell me it's cheap got the flavor of apollo creed with a plate of collard greens trying to separate the good and bad from my father's genes though the better part of me should bury the past i can't forget the sweat of the woman that carried his ass she saved and scraped while he was still jobless she gave us faith while he was still godless she made mistakes but still remained modest while he straight escaped while we were unconscious so now i fear nothing except maybe becoming the man that made me and then left like it was nothing a boy shouldn't ever have to be so grown but when daddy ain't a daddy, got to be your own hook: i ain't the kind of man to hold my tongue but sometimes i'm the only one even if you've been where i'm from you'll never know a soul like khan i might sleep on that gravy train but best believe i'mma stay the same and y'all can eat off the weight i gain you'll never know a soul like khan 2: i throw a penny in the well without wishing in hopes that it floats with another's ambition i was always told that small change is still change caked up or broke down, y'all pain is still pain i fall in love as easily as breathing they feel it for a minute, too, but leave me in a season i've been dropped in the autumn and frozen out in winter outgrown in the spring and in summer burnt to cinders i poke my nose where it doesn't belong in your life, in your speakers, or the front of a thong we all got some skeletons under our lawn and my bones poke out so my shovel's a song i crack a joke at a sucker's expense but he's just another dude trying to cover the rent and who am i to judge i'm a god damned mess but if y'all still listening, i'm god damned blessed hook


released November 16, 2010

1. 6:30 a.m.
(prod. j57)

2. fe la soul f akie bermiss
(prod. j57)

3. knuckle puck f koncept, 8thw1, and homeboy sandman
(prod. j57)

4. place that birthed me
(prod. j57)

5. for that
(prod. elaquent)

6. invisible hand
(prod. maticulous)

7. shitted on
(prod. j57)

8. suck my dick f o.i.s.d.
(prod. j57)

9. fahrenheit f akie bermiss
(prod. marink)

10. so i says
(prod. marink)

11. shot glass magnified f sene
(prod. elaquent)

12. minyan
(prod. j57, violin - rebecca waine, guitar - will mogey)

13. soul like khan
(prod. j57)

all interludes by j57
all cuts by deejay element
mixed by the audible doctor
photo by amber mclinn

thanks, mom. peace.

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Soul Khan Brooklyn, New York

Brooklyn based MC, member of Brown Bag Allstars.

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