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lyrics
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
credits
from Soul Like Khan,
released November 16, 2010
beat by J57, violin by Rebecca Waine, guitar by Will Mogey
