Myke T: On and on and the beat done stopped, but I’m… Magenta: So cold… So cold… It’s so cold… It was so cold… So cold Myke T: This Brotha Joe done came with a hard beat/ it’s so complex… Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: Why can’t I speak no more?/ Why won’t the ideas just flow and pour/ the way they used to/ I used to know or at least pretend/ but with every victory comes a new contender/ a never-ender/ and if you ain’t got the stomach/ the never-ending cycle will sho nuff make you nauseous/ cautious/ lossless in this compression/ while I spend most of my time battling depression/ can’t even start the song off right/ damn, it’s so simple/ when you see things in black and white/ but the visible light spectrum will best all attempts of misdirection/ direct your gaze to “exhibit a”/ reality/ that’s right/ seem so normal to wanna look away/ exhibit A, is Khujo Goodie/ in “Mainstream”/ chronicling how folk will die for the American dream/ and it seems meaningless/ when good is repaid with steel/ steal, beat, and kill x2/ make a brother holler “look at the hand you deal”/ look at it x2/ it’s tragic/ y’all can’t make me/ I’d rather wear my Ché Guevara revolutionary t-shirt/ and yell “power to the people”/ when the people hold power/ it’s just lunch hour/ and we on extended breaks/ and it’s damn sho’ easy for power to go sour/ makes me wonder if the quest for power is a primordial blunder/ rip us asunder/ then ponder it/ peddle it/ flip it/ and lift it/ now max it to its ultimate position/ some call it “God”/ some call it “overfishing”/ some call it “nothing”/ an ecological disaster emanating in the Gulf/ then come ashore and expose another gulf/ in economics and demographics/ builds the recipe for this tragic upside-down cake/ earthquakes in El Salvador add to the batter/ y’all understand by now that hooks don’t matter to Cervantes/ and don’t be acting like that I am a “glass half-empty”/ especially when that glass is filled with a fifth of Hennessey/ that kind of liquor that make you forget about the life you living/ them folks that’s trippin’/ them kids that’s dying/ them tears you crying/ even a full glass couldn’t swallow that up/ so fill it up again/ this time with some gin/ and you begin to understand the meaning of cooptation/ when the very act of you coping/ provides the system’s legitimation… Damn… and it goes on, on, on, on, and on… Shaneé: It’s so cold x16 Jolowmight: (And we don’t wanna think about it/ and we don’t wanna feel around it/ and we never do nothing ‘bout it… it’s so cold… x2/ and you know we need to feel around it/ and I know I gotta think about it/ and we gotta do something ‘bout it/ yeah, it’s so cold… x2) Shaneé: It’s so cold/ it’s complex/ it oscillates/ make no mistake/ we’ve grown cold/ Lord have mercy, we’ve grown cold… Jolowmight & Shaneé: The time to tell the truth is so long gone… The coldness of this thing makes it too frigid to touch, to hold, to embrace, to live, to cherish, to fight, to love… It goes on and on… Shaneé: Lift your head up, lift your head up/ And go on, and go on/ Look around you, look around you/ And go on, and go on/ Lift your head look around/ Lift your head look around/ You can’t stop/ You won’t stop/ Now don’t stop/ And go on… and on… and on…

And it goes on… Hook: JoDavid Malik JoDavid My shift’s nearly over/ time to go home/ who knew four minutes later/ things could go so wrong?/ the library’s closed/ me and my co-workers reminiscing about high school/ singing “Baby Got Back”/ acting a straight fool/ 2 minutes from now I will be getting jacked/ one minute to go/ I call my brother on the cell/ leave a voicemail/ 20 more seconds until the living of hell on earth/ the seconds turn to minutes then back to milliseconds/ a car made a quick U (turn)/ and out come my brethren/ fight or flight?/ aw shit they got a gun/ plus it’s four of them and they starting to run at me/ It’s happening so fast/ multiple sensations/ yet painfully aware of this complete violation/ that is cutting so deep/ as I’m thrown to the concrete/ don’t have the time to cry/ don’t wanna die/ oh my God/ there’s a gun on my chest/ don’t they know I’m… JoDavid A violent loss of perspective/ why won’t they say something?/ are they just gone kill me?/ this steel is on my ribs/ I’m tryin’ to push it off off/ I’m pleading for mercy/ a principle lacking in this situation/ they got my arms/ I don’t wanna die/ now I’m starting to cry/ thinking about my wife that is thirty seconds away/ will she hear the gunshots of my death?/ why won’t they say something?/ tell me what you’re gonna do please/ this unknown is killing me/ what’s the purpose of this violation/ this escalation?/ my right hand gets free/ I’m trying to move the gun off me/ then came the punch to the back of my head/ I’m filled with dread/ just tell me that I’m dead/ acknowledge my existence/ no matter how insignificant/ this epistemological rape/ I can’t escape/ no heroes with capes/ coming to my rescue/ I don’t know what I’m doing/ just begging, groveling/ pouring out all the manhood I been socialized to have/ and the ego is so low/ and they don’t give damn about “Joe-Baby”/ Juanita and Michael’s son/ Mike, Malcolm, and Matthia’s brother/ that shit don’t matter/ I’m just a piece of matter/ yet they still ain’t pulled the trigger/ go figure/ I can’t/ this randomness is laughing inexorably/ “just give us your wallet,” one says/ what? That’s it?!?!/ All this for some material shit?!?!?!/ “Take everything! Take it all!” I reply/ but before the words are done/ they’re in the car and back on the run… and I’m lying on the pavement alive…. And never quite the same… JoDavid Walking home so thankful/ so hateful/ so confused/ so mad/ but glad that them dudes had mercy/ or something/ but God had mercy/ but what about those who were shot?/ temporal retribution and redemptive suffering/ already asserting their presence/ but when the post-traumatic stress hit/ they became even more questioned/ so did “sin”/ so did “evil”/ so did “people”/ so did “God”/ and what’s odd was the fact that everybody tried to explain/ and make meaning/ but that was so demeaning/ holding onto your worldview at my expense?/ this ain’t recompense/ I gotta live through this/ I gotta go get help/ all the fear this situation exposed/ and I was “lucky” given the circumstance/ yet at second-glance/ I could use this experience for perseverance/ but damn it, that doesn’t negate the wrong that was done/ it’s misrepresentative to see that as redemptive/ how many atrocities have to occur/ before the line between good and evil gets irreparably blurred?/ but there ain’t no line anyway/ when the suffering of the victims never get the first say/ how many forces were at play that night?/ what was the combination?/ cuz Lord knows somebody coulda faced a different situation/ that left them dead/ but I’m alive/ so am so I grateful/ should I not be grateful?/ but does it make me “weak”/ that I can’t ignore those who never got to rise from history’s concrete?/ those who begged for compassion/ and only received a lashing/ whether agnostic, atheist, or theist/ it can be a hard thing grappling with reality’s caprice… Still gotta be…/They didn’t care I was… (JoDavid)/ They never heard I was… (JoDavid)/ Didn’t get the memo I was (JoDavid)/ Man, I wasn’t JoDavid…/ I don’t know what I was…/ I don’t know who I am…/ But it goes on… and it goes on… and I gotta find some way to go on…

K. Brown and Cervantes: Still thought you had it figured out… Hook: You think you got it figured out? You think you got it figured out? You think you got it figured out? Bridge: Magenta: When it goes down/ When it happens/ when things fall apart/ when bad things happen to “good good, ain’t-never-hurt-nobody” folk/ well it seems strange/ yeah it seems strange/ please don’t say that it’s God/ without thinking/ ‘bout the baby that was lost/ the teenager dead in the street/ the woman beat on/ pillaged and torn/ hunger for the child that never did nothing wrong/ wait a minute/ think about it/ retribution is easy logic/ ‘til it’s your kid/ your friend, your loss, your cross, your death, your mama, your drama/ preachers, teachers, and believers/ how quickly we become deceivers Jolowmight: You think it’s that easy?/ a cosmic principle easily accessible/ the decibels of the underside/ are cries so eerie/ their weary/ my eyes are teary/ from this complaint/get it straight/ like Psalm 88/ with no Comforter/ no sheets/ no mattress/ no atlas/ no compass/ and this Sucka MC talking about it was me/ if you sick, then you sinned/ if you rich you must be blameless/ how shameless can this be?/ if you po’ then that’s on you/ and if you healthy then you spiritually wealthy/ but what happens when bad things happen to good people?/ when a four year old catches evil/ in a stranger’s home/ y’all gone tell me that that little boy was wrong?/ and where was God?/ absent, present, or silent?/ why was Jephthah’s daughter subject to an end so violent?/ but like Job’s friends y’all think you got it figured out… Hook Bridge Cervantes: Don’t get me wrong/ there’s plenty good ‘bout this world/ but the Spirit won’t let me sit/ makes me spit/ junk is getting to the point/ that even I’ve considered puffin’ a joint/ but instead I give it to you raw/ uncooked/ undressed/ stripped down/ this frown is now a scowl/ seems an earthquake is more than the movement of tectonic plates/ Port au Prince was leveled, cuz of a pact with the devil?/ women get raped cuz their skirts are too short?/ that hurt she asked for?/ don’t deplore that folk were made slaves ‘cause they misbehaved/ and the graves of orphans come from the sins of the parents/ my larynx won’t close until I expose/ the justifying mechanisms of imperialism/ and the building of prisons/ “what goes around comes around”/ sometimes that’s true/ but sometimes bad folks don’t ever get to sing the blues/ meanwhile altruism can make you lose/ and receive ill-compensation/ I’m sayin’/ I choose to resist a plot so twisted and suspect/ cuz there are times when life is really complex/ and although I remain hope-filled/ sometimes I almost swallow the wrong pill/ that plugs me back into the Matrix/ we’ve gotta escape/ this ill-logic where effects are always causes/ but grandfather clauses keep me disenfranchised/ so it’s not cuz I got pride/ I will chide/ I will smash, obliterate, survive, transform, or rend this idol asunder/ it will no longer plunder/ I’mma bring the thunder/ flash the lightning/ cuz theologies, cosmologies, and ideologies/ yeah, they often come in threes/ thoughts of temporal retribution need correctin’/ it’s disrespecting to the victims/ and easy for victimizers/ this single narrative is consigned to unquenchable fire/ yeah it’s dire out here but it’s not hopeless/ now you Sucka MCs have to confess… yeah… Cervantes and Rena P: You think you got it figured out? How much have you ignored? You think you got it figured out? Here’s your hard-heartedness award, Sucka! You think you got it figured out? Just admit that you is scared. You think you got it figured out? ‘Cause when it all goes down, we’re all unprepared…

Jolowmight: He think he own it/ till they clone it/ wrong it/ coopt it/ even though it was meant for right/ yet sight turns white to black/ red to green/ indigo to brown/ the best idea is no longer profound Rob J: Acrobatic colors like ROYGBIV/ to VIBGYOR now my eyes getting sore/ different looks, viewpoints got me in a daze/ trapped in the center of this complicated maze J: my mind’s ablaze at how quick the slave becomes the master/ that’s disaster/ and after while tragedy becomes comedic irony/ to living carefree/ as if the purpose of life is to be a Sucka MC R: instead (of) agreeing that you all must learn/ even when the violence stops the ignorance returns/ concerned mindframes or made up medullas/ various solutions, dictators vs. rulers J: (rulers) are you using to measure? Centimeters or inches? The distance/ an instance of paradox/ perspective/ subjective, objective/ a matter of increments/ makes sense?/ a good offense is an impregnable defense R: some speak pretense, nonsense, chitter-chatter/ but y’all don’t listen anyway so what does it really matter?/ same source, different course, yeah that’s fine/ one goal in mind, that’s to cross the finish line J: multiple paths, multiple tracks, multiple mountains, multiple fountains, multiple interpretations, multiple invasions, multiple evasions, multiple sensations, multiple cooptations, multiple annihilations R: diverse equations, common frustrations/ whether you’re black, white, Mexican, or Asian/ the media is amazing, blazing exploitation/ dividing just to conquer, but they holler out “one nation” J: Oh how they flip it/ gank “The Message” and turn it to capitalism’s “Celebration”/ like Kool and the Gang couldn’t feel Melle Mel’s vexation with the system’s edge/ and losing one’s head becomes head-getting/ how fitting R: No bullshitting/ but Schlitz malt liquor got a “master cylinder”/ with no brakes/ though the 24 ounces killing ya/ no shoes, no pads/ metal to metal/ stop sign/ ain’t no such thing J: can’t laugh at a joke so twisted/ liquor guzzlers missed it/ preachers dismissed it/ so I enlisted the help of the Spirit but was told I had a demon/ so we dealing with drunk ass, judge/mental, oblivious kinda semen R: I’m dreamin’/ that’s sicker than Willie Beaman/ Any Given Sunday, football or Christian meaning/ leaning on the everlasting arms of the “bishop”/ 2Pac Juice or Magic Juan—is that official? J: Naw…We superficial ‘cause our insides are so hollow/ so we follow the latest idol/ and recite and live madness/ but then again who’s sane?/ Batman, the Joker or the community that produced them? R: Gotham city for the ghetto no R. Kelly/ Red or blue pill? Grape or apple jelly? Pit-bull or poodle? Tidbits or oodles? Don’t tell me it’s spaghetti and you feed me ramen noodles J: tootles to “either/or”/ what about “both/and?”/ “neither/nor?”/ such a bore/ so focused on the score/ that we forgot the fundamentals/ the emotional, practical, spiritual, and mental R: with no thoughts of consequential, only instrumental/ are necessary when we’re trying to reach a central/ state of mind/ mind-state gassed up like lactate/ let the Kaleidoscope infiltrate and cease with the debates J: we try to escape a spectrum of possibilities/ a crayon box with one color/ no differentiation of mundane to spectacular emanations/ temporal and spatial/ flash and a pace that’s so glacial R: from continent to country/ Istanbul, Montgomery/ one nation under a groove but can’t move with no money/ different diction, but still the same adversary/ patrician or plebian/ economics vary J: and what’s scary is that they try to make us Tom, Dick, and Harry/ that ain’t her and my name/ this ain’t a game R: so what set you claim?/ rearrange your mind-frame/ the more things change, they should never remain the same… JoDavid: We see cooptation not just as a taking up or assimilation, but also neutralization. And what has been neutralized is, in the end, possibilities. Cooptation is part of the plan laid by those who seek to oppress and victimize. Cooptation can be found in the arguments for ontological givenness or necessity… You know like, when a person says, “it is what it is…” or “God wants it to be this way…” or “people are different ‘til death do us part based on skin color…” ‘cause there’s got to be the “other…” an enemy… it’s the only way to be… know what’m’sayin? ‘cause this “system” has shown that it will take and can take any definition to suit its own ends, and if it cannot, this thing will eradicate the opposition, in various ways. Naw sister. Naw brother… We do not argue for the givenness or necessity of any method, situation, or system. The system we critique is not necessary… it is precariously, deliberately, and haphazardly worked out through a series of individual, local, international, natural, and cosmic power players. This thing is a series of relationships. It can only be encountered in its concrete manifestations, but it is also oh so mysterious. It is both in and beyond the human sphere. But how do we combat such a thing, if it produces death on the molecular and the metaphysical level…? How can we be prophetic in this instance…? How can and where does God act? Can God be coopted…? Where’s my Kaleidoscope…? I think I been here before… I think I’ve been jacked before… I think they stole a few Messages before Melle Mel… I think we’ve been… I just been… Lord, seems like I am coopted… Ain’t no more kaleidoscopes…

Ms. Mimi: It’s me, it’s me O Lord, Standing in the Need of Prayer… No justice no peace in these streets tonight Say I’m standing here, waiting for my soul to turn on the porchlight Hoping that hope will be home before midnight Partitioning off faces with the pseudo-realities, of these twirling, whirling Picturesque black on black fantasies… Folk talking about they keepin’ it real When they shed skin like snakes Welcome to Castle “Upper-Echelon” Where we hook your fantasy up Even if your reality is ghetto-fabulously fake Partaking in fate, passing around that collection plate Of lust no fuss only thrills in this temple of masquerades We step out surreptitiously, glass slippers made of tar Make mundane musical monotony in a mutiny Lying about who we are and what kind of car we drive… The smell of desperation Theological… Hey, can anybody find me a porchlight for my soul…? I said, hey, can anybody find me a porchlight for my soul… Say brother, you got a porchlight? Where is my porchlight? I know you got a porchlight, Yeah you got a porchlight for my soul… One that will show this crescent stain Where my cousin that was laid to rest Larger than that period And that six-syllable sentence that was placed in the daily news You know that sentence, from that porchlight? Can anybody help me find a name Deep inside my hypothalamus, magnetic, kinetic, rudimentary, Everyday, miraculous tears For my baby sister who’s flower was poked out before it even came into season… For no good reason… But I keep on believing, perceiving, upheaving, and bleeding But Lord! I’m still breathing… can anybody find my porchlight? Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: A shot from the cannon Let’s have ourselves a hanging… Who’s the first scapegoat I can find? Time done passed so quick that we mistook sand for grits Not edible, but covered in toppings To make you forget you eating animal droppings I’m downing fish that’s been filled with hydrocarbons and dispersants And the news of the day is why ain’t Obama Turned into Samuel L. circa 1995? What does Marsellus Wallace look like? Does he look like a Sucka MC? You know a jackleg preacher/ who reduces genocide to the pride of victims/ no pain no gain/ the bane of my existence/ who seek forgiveness without repentance/ damn! Y’all is a hindrance Does he look like a Sucka MC? A person who can’t win an argument cuz they lyin’/ so instead of conversion that cast dispersions/ and it’s so puzzling that we mistake truth for a dumb ass winning the dozens Does she look like a Sucka MC? Those who believe capitalism can never be surpassed/ as if God has been outclassed/ but idols harass/ and if the West has engineered the best system possible/ then why is poverty so damn unstoppable? Does she look like a Sucka MC? An anthropocentric antagonizing albatross/ who figures humanity is the boss/ the center of the cosmos/ filled with a pimp’s swagger/ throwing toxic daggers into our planet’s private parts…. They ain’t got ‘nam heart… I ain’t done… Y’all gone hear it… These Sucka MCs… Cervantes: Where’s my porchlight?/ My microscope/ y’all done provoked Cervantes to analyze his Petri Dish/ I suspect we gone have some organisms/ mental prisms/ victims/ underside of capitalisms/ pretensions/ fiction/ incisions with repetition/ this history-less land of progress finna get a taste of something it can’t handle/ burning both ends of the candle/ the vandals finna get called out/ let’s talk about the evisceration of public education/ let’s talk about how integration left so many behind/ let’s talk about church decline/ and prosperity preaching/ seems that Jesus leases, rents, buys, and occupies/ the reality elucidated in Lord of the Flies/ let’s talk about a nation where you gotta show your papers/ unless you clearly a vanilla wafer/ let’s talk about how po’ neighborhoods are next to trash heaps and oil fields/ yeah, let’s keep it real/ let’s talk about the slavery of the music industry/ where your creations are under their mastery/ let’s talk about how hip-hop went from a musical genre/ to an ecosystem of piranhas/ but you can’t thrive on one species alone/ so don’t thing longevity is through makin’ clones/ let’s talk about how this thing was built on the corpses of tribes/ and even that truth can’t jive/ with Obama’s retelling of American History/ which ain’t even mythology/ Mainstream history in America is the combination of propaganda, lies, a smidgeon of pigeon-dropping sized facts/ sound bites, talking heads/ that tell hyperboles of the dead…

What is free?/ Can JoDavid find it in the academy/ can’t look at folk in the eyes/ my confidence is gone with the wind/ and folk don’t give a damn/ liberate my mind from a banking system/ got me locked in a safe/ feelin’ safe/ but that’s a false sense of security/ such a pity/ cain’t critically assess this mess/ I done drank America’s Kool Aid twice over/ gotta be hard/ gotta be a strong black man/ gotta be paranoid/ ‘cause I’m taught to figure/ that everybody around me can only see me as a “nigga”/ not JoDavid/ “Jolowmight(x) Cervantes” mah (my) alias/ and I get so tired of identity politics for the sake of kicks/ took my pick/ and the deck was already stacked/ had to play ‘em anyway/ ‘cause I can’t go back in time/ what is free?/ bell hooks speakin’ in my ear/ got so many planks/ so easy to give in to fear/ to rage/ free is not just releasing the shackles/ but to tackle the reasons for the shackles in the first place/ oh such a proclivity/ we humans have for idolatry ego and hubris/ call ‘em synonyms/ call it sin/ call it whatever you like/ jus’ don’t act like it don’t exist/ ooh… my grammar is so terrible/ so low class/ suppose if I reflected on the ontological quandary of prophecy/ vis-à-vis/ our epistemological limitations/ in light of theological equations/ Am I essentializing?/ don’t find that surprising/ told you I done drank the Kool Aid/ and made it my own/ after all Kool Aid is just the mix/ we add the water and sugar/ flavor it to our taste/ choke it down/ taste so good/ hurt so good/ freedom’s no good/ without weapons of mass destruction/ this is such a biting critique/ but I AIN’T DONE/ ‘cause my folk done told me ‘bout a friend late in the midnight hour/ who got all power/ wrapped up in love/ in patriarchy/ in liberation/ in discrimination/ all at the same time/ freeing our minds/ takes too much time/ and I would rather let others do the thinking/ while I do the drinking/ never linking/ putting two and two together/ education, as an act of liberation/ for the trials and tribulations that we are all facing/ now that’s free/ let my gran’mama tell it/ life will process all of us/ to get free from this mess and being free to this MC is to change the tempo and vamp the melody/ and switch genres… Cuz we just can’t have it the same man… This is for Jonathan, Steve, and Modest Mouse… Thanks Isaac Brock It came together so fast/ the right time met the wrong time/ they seized the opportunity/ to join forces with space/ I paced back and forth/ unwilling to enter but was drawn in by gravity’s center/ and my participation/ was both afterthought and indispensable/ it’s consequential to note that… despite my anthropocentrism/ I was barely one color in this saga’s prism/ and all I wanted was a cold glass of water/ but that decision hinged/ on concomitant factors/ and y’all know I’m just one little actor/ who made that glass? In what factory? Was it overseas, where underpaid workers aid in quarterly profits? Maybe I should think about another topic/ the water came from the sink from a pipe that was laid in the ground before I came around/ weren’t folk here before we came around? And now I see that ice cube gingerly floating/ how many patents are in a freezer, ice trays, Brita Filters and pitchers?/ get the picture? My thirst drew me to the kitchen/ and then a light flickered/ remain hid… Can’t Stop Baby, ya know it can’t stop/ Won’t Stop Brother ya know it don’t stop/ Don’t Stop Sister ya know it can’t stop… CWDS

Jolowmight(x) Cervantes and Rob J: Injury, Death, Meaninglessness x 4 This is the Most Beautiful World that we’ll Ever Know This is the Most Beautiful World but we’ll never know It’s irrevocable, once it’s happened it’s done/ it’s irrecoverable, you can’t get back your son/ from the jail or the grave/ preacher said he misbehaved/ church labeled him a “sinner”/ so to flesh he’s a slave/ and can never be saved/ so hang the boy from a steeple/ his execution’s retribution/ no institutional evil/ racism, classism, sexism, ageism/ it’s amazing what you see on the other side of the prism/ things can still happen from randomness/ Katrina, tsunamis, natural processes/ anxiety, pettiness, senselessness/ and when you’re feeling low, there’s hopelessness/ it’s the pain that you feel when you being attacked/ it’s the trauma that you feel when you stabbed in the back/ it’s those kind of moments when no words can suffice/ no talking, dead silence, and no need for advice/ physical, spiritual, and psychological drama/ when you 40 years old, and you wanna call mama/ but mama’s struggling with cancer, and she short on prescriptions/ call the HMO and hell naw they ain’t listening/ and some children in this world grow up with no chance/ but we glorify that shit with a song and a dance/ MTV turns misery to a reality show/ but this is the most beautiful world, that we’ll ever know… Rob J: I didn’t get here by myself… but sometimes it feels like I’m here by myself, no crutches or nothing… Injuries… Look. but I’m still walking. I don’t know if it’s the valley or the shadow of death…. My spaceship didn’t come with navigation/ no steering wheel, map, no signs, no explanations/ just a little frustration, insults and injuries, lost my godbrother, Brandon, back in ‘03/ first child is born, same year Capricorn/ six years old, her and her brother dead and gone/ song cry/ naw real tears that’s for certain/ son’s name/ right hand man/ closed curtains G.J./ and to add it all up and give props/ y’all called him Moosie/ I simply called him pops/ my heartbeat stopped for a second on this track/ keep your fiction and your diction/ I spit facts/ personal memories, devastating injuries/ be careful of what you ask for/ don’t put me out my misery/ ‘cause through all the pain, the misery and strife/ I’m injured but I’m breathing, now that’s real life… Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: Death… we all gotta go/ but everyone’s journey ain’t the same/ hunger, dementia, gunfire, cocaine/ it’s enough to drive you insane/ blow out my brains/ it can’t be defeated or contained/ we spend our lives tryin’ to escape that uncomfortable feeling/ looking at the ceiling/ missing my grandmamma/ but that’s personal/ when ain’t death personal?/ when it becomes statistics, factoids/ I ain’t depressed or paranoid/ but for some this life is an endless void/ filled with lambs led to the slaughter/ men women children and animals drinking contaminated water/ I live so that you can die/ and folk wonder why/ some want God to crack open the sky/ but them same folk/ will sometimes wish their enemies eternal hell: slavery, genocide, forced prostitution, injury to dissolution/ to macabre murderous mutations/ nuclear annihilations/ gun cock, explode/ bombs strapped to chests/ bullet proof vests/ birds can’t even nest/ cause there ain’t no more trees/ my God I can’t breathe/ but I wanna believe… this world… this world is so damn meaningless… a chasing after the wind… Rob J: Injury, death, meaninglessness/ economical bliss, man I’d be remiss/ to condone project homes, in a zone/ where people cries burned underground for so long/ sad song/ and let it pass over just like the wind/ revoking kinfolks and simply murdering friends/ because he stepped on your toes/ but it’s really your shoes/ your shoes (are) a lil’ dirty now you’re making the news/ juiced up like Tropicana, nowadays we shooting over text messages and killing in Savannah/ in Atlanta/ there’s a houseful of bullet holes/ APD (Atlanta police department) shooting a woman that’s one hundred years old Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: The story’s been told, but we gone tell it again/ when your nemesis was once your best friend/ and folk in power won’t bend/ and hurricanes and ethnic cleansing displaces and sends/ I can’t pretend not to see it all/ damage, murder, absurdity, ecological destruction/ and you know they will never show/ ‘cause this is the most beautiful world, that I’ll never know

Hook: Jolowmight, Beth RC, and Magenta Jazz: When it’s so cold outside And feels like tomorrow will never arrive Eyes that reflect the sorrows of today Can reflect tomorrow’s sunrise Where do we find it? When it’s so, so cold—tell me where does It go? When our perspective is lost—does It blow? When we think we got it figured out—how can we go? When cooptation is on every leaning side—how do we know? When there is no prophetic intensity—how can we feel? Well, it can’t stop; it won’t stop; it don’t stop; It seems to never stop… Jolowmight: Fall fresh/ fall fresh for all the factors/ for all the actors/ fall fresh for another chapter/ still unwritten// I’m smitten by a Spirit/ so warm, but it causes harm to Sucka MCs/ violence ain’t my intention/ but mention righting wrongs and them suckas sang the sad song/ even though, even if we cain’t see the future/ we gotta paint the picture/ a mixture of struggles become sundry/ ready to throwdown/ to clown on a moment’s notice/ and the soundtrack is playin’/ and our bodies rock creepily, eerily/ seriously the other side is in all directions/ just use discretion/ and uhm, the last selection/ is Chakra, Ki, Reiatsu/ for you? Naw... for me… till infinity… Hook Feels like tomorrow will never arrive Arrive… Look to the sunrise…

Even though I can’t see the future I can’t stop/ Even if the same folks are always on top/ Even if this world is in gridlock/ Might be a better day ahead… Jolowmight: O Sister! Keep looking up and pressing on Stephanie: O Brother! You gotta believe a change gone come But we hear you, no it ain’t cool/ can’t make your rent/ unemployment over 10%/ There’s a war in our streets/ to the Middle East/ reachin’ across the world/ and it don’t seem we will never have peace… Even though we can’t see the future we can’t stop/ Even if the same folks are always on top/ Even if the world is in gridlock/ There’s a better day ahead Even though we can’t see the future we can’t stop/ Even if the same folks are always on top/ Even if the world lives in gridlock/ We’ll make a better day ahead Accordion Solo by Jenny V Even though I can’t see the future/ Even though I don’t have an answer/ Even though I feel alone/ Even if it seems not to matter/ Even though no one knows/ Even though I’m exhausted/ Even though I have issues/ Even if it’s hopeless/ Even though compassion lacks/ Even though I wanna crack/ Even though I wanna snap/ Even though no one calls me back/ Even though I’m overworked and underpaid/ Even though I’m in debt/ Even though the system fails us/ Even if I feel unloved/ Even though compassion goes punished/ Even though selfishness is rewarded/ Even when God seems silent/ Even when the Spirit goes cold/ Even when I don’t understand/ Even though I have every reason to stop But I can’t stop/ Naw we can’t stop So we won’t stop / Cuz it don’t stop So we can’t stop/ No we can’t stop Cuz it won’t stop/ So we don’t stop Refrain The Struggle Is Infinite Yeah… But Hope is Infinite. I said Hope is Infinite. My Hope is Infinite. So I go on… Cuz God is Infinite! Yo! And God can be proximate God does infinite possibilities… Yeah, so I can be infinite. And I can do infinite. And I can do proximate. Could I go on?

Lil’ Joe: Maybe I should tell you a little about myself; My name is Joe Sales, 12 years old… You might think I’m a little crazy… Everybody thinks I’m crazy… Course I’m crazy… You wanna hear it again? You don’t? I don’t care, you’re hearin’ it again, ‘cause I want to… Jolowmight: Guess it’s been with me so long/ that I forgot/ I under-appreciated/ no more depreciation/ thank you God/ for giving me a treasure/ so I’m careful with every measure/ so much more than pleasure/ and sometimes it ain’t all gravy/ and the best you can get out of life is “maybe”/ probably thought that me at twelve would never see this day/ would never pray/ would never get a chance to say/ that I “can’t, won’t, don’t stop”/ “never stop”/ and I ain’t alone/ no, on this microphone/ I am sundry/ with my three sisters/ yes, sucka mc we are a permanent fixture/ the song shall become the means/ but the struggle remains infinite/ it never ends/ let’s begin Magenta Jazz: Keep on trusting in that gold/but you’ve already lost control J(x) Cervantes: Never had it in the first place/ ‘cause you’re enslaved by fear/ never moved by tears/ but it is clear as crystal meth amphetamine/ that we have given up on our dreams Shaneé: Livin’ in a nightmare/ pulling out my hair/ got no time to share/ beginning to wonder if this is more than we could ever bear Ms. Mimi: It seems paradoxical to say/ but since this thing is infinite/ even this too shall soon pass away/ now we know there’s stress/ now the Sundry moves into the wilderness Magenta and Shaneé: We are Sundry/ we are elemental/ Spirit will bring out our potential/ love is more than being sentimental Magenta: Won’t get caught up in the game of deception/ turning stones into bread is misdirection/ when feeding the hungry is your profession Shaneé: authority and power over every nation/ seems like God’s equation for us to get things done/ but the Spirit complicates the meaning of “vocation” Magenta and Shaneé: And if you is really God’s child/ go on ahead and start to fly/ throw yourself off this steeple/ impress a bunch of people/ ‘cause gods ain’t concerned with things that are lethal The Sundry: Walking Spirit-filled doesn’t make us divine It makes us more human than we’ve ever been It’s what let Calvin and Hobbes shine But we find ourselves accompanied with a violent twin Because breath grants the possibility of crime The reality of sin and not letting your neighbor in Even God’s blessings can be used destructively It’s coming… It’s on the horizon… Don’t find it surprising… Oh Lord… The trouble I see… The trouble I see… I got to feel (the trouble I see) Identify (the stuff we can’t see) Expose (what we cover up) Subvert (the trouble that we see) I gotta survive (the trouble we see) Transform (trouble, trouble…) Resist… the trouble I see… Mimi: I’m set free like a soft wind in June Or maybe just a midnighted moon Jolowmight: With nothing but the stars and heavens guidin’ me Feelin’ free and chillin’ in the place to be Mimi: Hee hee hee/ It ain’t a laughing matter/ When the keys to you chains go “pitter-patter” Jolowmight: cut out the chatter, the loud talk, the dissin’/ cuz you got it bring it with you/ or be stuck reminiscing Mimi: reminding yourself of a long lost friend/ That you promised you’ll ‘til the end Jolowmight: But the end came too fast/ we couldn’t make it last/ And the passing of time can dull any rhyme Mimi: Record keep spinnin’/ hittin’ on a dime/ Can’t press rewind/ but we dance with time Jolowmight: And a twelve-year-old kid had to grow into a man/ Who wears Vans/ and still works on his master plan…

Intro Freestyled Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: Shaneé told me, I had to go on/ Magenta said, they thought they had it figured out/ Mimi told me, we got to be free/ And my brother Mike said it goes “on and on” and it just don’t stop/ And my brother Malcolm/ My brother Malcolm/ Is calling… / He’s calling me…/ And he says… Hook (Maximum): I have no problem… picking up this microphone Hook No, I don’t have a problem/ I figure out how to solve ‘em/ I’m the universal solvent/ that searches for solutions/ in dirt, silt, and erosion/ heading to the ocean/ salty seas/ cuz Sucka MCs ain’t ever fresh water/ or party starters/ I rip seams, mangle dreams, imagine things that shine harder than bling/ Cremate any chump who puts a finger to my plate/ I’m tectonic/ bionic/ adjusted for inflation/ call me the “One Billion Dollar Man”/ the new Lee Majors is rhymin’ to the key of E Major/ telekinetically grab my lightsaber/ I’m savoring this moment/ ‘cause I ain’t Jedi or Sith/ yet strong with the Force/ my weapon is my mic and I will never lose my grip/ I ain’t got ‘am problem… Hook Picking up this microphone? never put it down/ how can 8 bars be profound?/ how can you do this to your sound?/ when they gone realize I write scores and not songs?/ I pauperize the popularized/ disintegrate the potentates/ disembowel the scowls/ and make Sucka MCs throw in the towel/ give flavor to the haters/ all the while giving dap to my mellow, Loc Vader/ ‘cause we had no problem… Hook This is my jam/ snap your fingers/ clap some hands/ show this land/ that you understand how to get down/ is this too whimsical for hip-hop?/ this music is gonna make your heart stop?/ I won’t/ I’m Jolowmight(x)Cervantes/ trying to pay back student loans/ need some cash flow on this microphone/ Cervantes got habits to maintain/ like making songs to tax your brain/ I was so lame in high school/ big head and skinny body/ used to think I was so, so sorry/ like an Atari 5200/ why I jump off the subject?/ I suspect it’s because the beat told me so/ I wrote this jam in my pajamas on the flo’ [floor]/ with nothing but a dream that I could make a crowd scream/ it’s enough bling out there/ so more power to ‘em/ they hip-hop too/ but I wish this kind music could get through to you/ so the world could see imagination is more than it seems/ is my flow too weird/ to hear?/ to cheer?/ to erase your fear?/ now brother, ya gotta listen hear… I pick up a microphone… Sister, I pick up a microphone… Tell ‘em Malcolm… Hook T-H-R-O-W-D-O-W-N/ an 8-bit Nintendo was so throwback/ let’s go back/ Rock it don’t stop it/ I rock and don’t stop/ thanks Bambaataa and the Soul Sonic Force/ givin’ me velocity/ vibrations/ and gravitational pulls…. Hook Freestyled Outro You just a Sucka MC I said you don’t know no history, no verbs, or nouns You just a Sucka MC you sad face clown Don’t know your English, History, Verbs, Nouns, Math… Sucka MC you’s a sad face clown Na-na-na-nah.. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah boo boo Nah, nah nah nah, you’s a sucka MC… x2 Go tell yo’ Mama you a sucka MC Go tell yo’ daddy you a sucka MC Go tell yo’ family you a sucka MC I said go tell everybody you a sucka MC But I is J-O-L-O-W-M-I-G-H-T-(-x-)-C-E-R-V-A-N-T-E-S They call me Jolowmight(x)Cervantes And I thank the world I thank God I have no problem

Ms. Mimi: Hungry for water in a weary land Searching for justice like oil in Persian sand Like Moses we strike rocks hard knocks wanna outfox the box Lady Liberty’s on lock like Fort Knox combusted consumed straight to the head like a sonic boom From the grave to the tomb and she can’t be exhumed From my forefather’s mouth to my grandmmama’s womb The tears appear from a generation’s fears To hear the jeers of satan’s final frontier? – Dear Lord Why oh Why Do these tears that I cry leave a sty on my eye? That--floats like a butterfly stings like wasp knocked out in one round by the pound of the cost A world lost; so far left it ain’t right Evil looking for a fight At my door every night Calling me out for my beat down? I could put my feet down pre/pare to meet the re/verb of the ground But like David I come in the name of the omega soul keeper The infinite reaper love so deeply united to the believer can’t separate from the beseecher infinite template; he is the one sling shot like faith so I don’t need a gun but it POW! here it comes stand-firm-on-this-faith, yet I press-on-and-run! evade weapons of mass destruction while hunting and gathering courage holla back someone hits me, OW! I’m scourged Got a feeling for the flavor of a vapor Called the immaculate caper Some fool switched the heads of Jefferson and Lincoln On Mt. Rushmore to the Terminator Been ‘buked and scorned by devilish haters But though he slay me, yet will I pray for A love greater than faces on paper got a girl thinking about a passport to the Zion But the Lord says it’s not my time so I’m Waiting on the master’s plan To quench my flame; and Let—me, clear my! … ugh name ‘cause I have 100 reasons to cry but one reason to smile that outweighs the pain… The Lord bring me through the rain but I smile through the pain Jolowmight: My soundtrack/ this knack of switching gears with no clutch/ no gearbox/ no fuel that combusts/ but I bust/ this ain’t Chakra/ ran out of Ki/ Reiatsu left me/ and it’s just face to face with a heavy heart/ that hopefully ain’t hardened/ wanna be starting something/ I’m ‘bout to beat you/ and won’t stop until you hurt enough/ and Diana is so dirty south/ and them criminals are so smooth/ that black or white is all that we see/ so why you wanna trip on me?/ it’s human nature to chase pretty young impressionable thangs/ can you feel that these rhymes are off the wall/ out of his life comes so much inspiration/ it’s easier to be a killer than a Thriller/ who is limitation free?/ Goodie speak to me/ speak to me (Out)Kast/ make me blast/ Millencolin descend/ Pharaoh add the blend/ Modest Mouse hit them licks/ and make me think/ Yoshida Brothers pluck them shamisens/ James Horner cue them violas, violins, and cellos/ got me flexin’ like Jell-O/ oh it’s getting clearer man in the mirror… Cervantes: When I freestyled with 3935/ all I wanted to do was get live/ spit jive/ and dream about sending Sucka MCs into hives/ when the beat emerged in the inner recesses/ it was inexplicable/ but still the picture must be attempted with spit/ that is flowing from my vocals/ this music/ this prose/ this academic reflection is multidirectional/ thank the Lord for being so gracious/ that I was granted a mind so spacious/ no square footage can be measured in these caverns of gray matter/ all that matters is that your understanding, feeling, and doing/ keep commanding, keep demanding justice, mercy, love, life/ no strife/ fall fresh/ yes, fall fresh/ damn, I’m blessed/ I know thangs get rough/ but (Billy) Ocean told us about tough-goings/ girding my loins/ like my name is Job/ I must expose idols/ it’s my calling/ and I ain’t stalling/ so don’t think “Balling” is God/ don’t think it’s impossible/ because the first trick that they make us learn/ is that a better way will never be discerned/ it ain’t written in permanent marker/ call me Bob Barker/ cuz I need y’all to come on down/ the price is right/ the time is now/ which crowds are right?/ which ones are wrong?/ dripping from my opens pores is sweat of hope/ that bangs out dope orchestrumentals for no profit/ but still able to be coopted/ so I switch my flow/ call me Jolowmight(x) Cervantes/ call me The Mad Scientist/ call me JoDavid// grades never mattered/ until I saw some hills so steep and snowcapped mountain peaks/ I could go on ‘til the break of dawn/ but I must close/ because this struggle is infinite/ so I can’t stop/ never stop/ God don’t stop/ Jesus on the clock/ Holy Spirit keep blowin’/ so I’mma keep flowin’/ as long as people’s lives are stolen/ and our environment is subject to oil slick/ Cervantes will continue to have a bone to pick…

Shaneé and Jolowmight(x) Cervantes: Got no money… Got no money Got no power… Got no power… All I got is this dance floor... so here we go Turn on your transistor now tell your sister/ It’s time to ignore the sore spots/ Even aliens got to rock/ Beam this, pump this, scatter my molecules/ Capitalism is for fools/ Communism is for prisons/ Only zombies can create a new system/ Don’t get creeped out; you’re one of us now/ The moment your foot got to tappin’/ You were in this net/ This composition’s fabric lets you forget you’re in debt/ It’s time to move, time to groove, time to foreclose/ Only God knows how long before this thang flames out… Cervantes: Massa like it when we’s docile Shanée: So she can sleep all night long Cervantes: Massa can even tolerate our anger Shaneé: ‘Cause he know he wrong Together: But when we combine dem, Massa know there gwine be danger ‘y’ is apathy; ‘x’ is raw emotion Put ‘em together and that’s a powerful potion Hook: Creepy body rock at a tempo that moves from fast to slow No one knows when and where this dance gone end We might end up tore up, at church, or marching in these streets But here come the beat beat It’s like a virus Lean back so slow... We move so slow... But you still gone trip and fall Ignore your phone calls... It’s just collections Bridge: Cervantes: Get up on the dance floor… I said you need stop lookin’ so pretty I said girl you better sweat yo’ perm out I said girl you better step yo’ perm out I said homeboy you get up off the wall I said homeboy you better get up on that wall You better take your bills and wipe yo’ buttcrack Said take yo’ bills and wipe your buttcrack Cuz it can’t stop It won’t stop I said it can’t stop Can’t can’t won’t won’t won’t Can’t stop brotha So you better take your mortgage and hide it under your pillow It will go away… Shaneé and J(x) Cervantes: Oh... Oh... Uh oh.... Oh no... Oh no... We move so slow…We move so slow I guess the beat can only rock for so long It’s the repo man’s favorite song: “Are we all just a commodity?” I’m a zombie at the Dollar Tree… Hook And I’m a zombie…

Big T: Follow the leader indeed this world needs ya/ Its only a matter of time before the student is the teacher/ Lavish lies of the kind got me geeked up/ I traveled to the end of that road that left me freaked up/ Plenty times I should've listened to the preachaz/ back then a hard head always looking for the street buzz/ fixated on a world that really never was/ praying to the Lord that I'd never end up like my cuz/ Called it a hero, stuck on every word/ shoulda listened to my gut, it’s the first thing I heard/ and since then it’s been getting on my nerves/ cuz I died in the lies when my vision got blurred/ so I paid the price and some think it’s nice/ go ahead and fool me once but you won't do it twice/ break away I’m invoking my rights/ never again caught off guard like a deer in headlights/ I looked at him man, straight in eye / never understood why the deception and lies/ spread it out man...I’mma let it fly/ 3Stacks told the truth... heroes eventually die... Chaddy C: wind beneath my wings/ the king of all kings/ he was Billy Idol he could tell me anything/ he knew I would listen/ dreams I’d envision/ women, cars, and clothes was the only way of livin’/ point guard vision/ like Rod Strickland/ he was quarterback Jeff Blake to Carl Pickens/ but something was missing/ headed towards collision/ all this was based on my hero’s decision/ pump the brakes now throw it in reverse/ the hero I had was a gift and curse/ that’s what I get for putting him first/ fractions of my life/ yeah it’s time to invert/ the bonds that I ? it’s time to disperse/ take the penalty and pay God the tax/ road less taken/ took the wrong path/ Robert Frost on the pavement I can handle that/ positioning the light/ now I can track/ life is kicking off Devin Hester run it back/ matter of fact it’s black and white like a zero/ check the melody of this guitar hero… Jolowmight: Heroes never scream/ never careen/ never lose/ always on top/ jockin’ for the illest position/ every decision is guaranteed to make the least of these bleed/ profusely/ loosely clinging to the rules cuz them are for fools/ how anti-hero can I be?/ a man with no name/ playing games with lives/ but ending up unforgiven/ cuz he got it coming/ now how you living? Tried to live like them but ended up in prison/ when I grow up, I wanna be Indiana Solo Skywalker Jones/ destroying homes with injustice/ but might makes right/ a real superman don’t give a hot damn/splitting atoms over Japan/ your plans must be surrender but pretenders are scared of their shadows/ so we photoshop it out of history’s JPEG/ thank God for the shoulders that I stand on/ who taught me right from wrong/ I gotta change the tone/ loc’d out like my swag is invisible/ but it’s indivisible/ no remainder/ heroes are strangers to decimal points/ (only) whole numbers/ so they ain’t gotta read between the integers Big T: It’s a new mind/ it’s my time/ we movin’ on up so we don’t decline/ I hope y’all getting strength from the rhyme/ can never hold us down cuz we back on the grind/ Chaddy C: Back on the grind/ ain’t no clips in my nine/ just poppin shit from my mind/ heroes keep falling/ time after time/ sitting in this dark room open up the blinds/ Jolowmight: so let the Light shine/ expose all the fakers/ those who play heroes but are only takers/ perpetrators/ terminators/ devastators/ decepticons/ believing in such things will only make us pawns Big T: Susceptible to anything/ renew the mindframe for what the Spirit brings/ I can feel it in my heart like when an angel sings/ believe the truth that’s inside or it won’t mean a thing Chaddy C: Hard to swallow like whole grain/ feelings of nirvana like Cobain/ I can feel the teen spirit in my big vein/ a voice in this world with no gain Jolowmight: Naw... fame and heroes ain’t synonymous/ anonymous mamas, dads, mentors, and scores of folk/ who overcome daily battles and circumstance/ and give the next generation a chance to advance…

Cervantes: The restraint is restrained/ I’m going oops upside your brain/ and the membrane is quite permeable/ allowing anything to enter/ so I became a splinter made of marble, gemstones, and fiber optic cable/ how regal, refractive, and advanced can I be?/ Sucka MC, you still stuck on the similes and metaphors?/ while I just put 7 more up on the (score)board/ go board/ go blind six/ you can have the first pick in this year’s draft/ but no dynasty for you/ who shot J.R?/ no references from the 80s/ I know your mind is hazy/ the splinter is still there/ burning the follicles of your hair/ you wasn’t prepared/ ‘cause when teach’ asked what was six squared/ you scratched your head and forgot it’s now my lair/ where a dragon ignites musical chairs on your cerebellum… Jolowmight: Some situations place you in suspended animation/ too few pixels/ no liquid crystals/ no high definition/ just idioms/ that never get to the point/ ‘cause it’s all about the journey/ learn it well/ I’m seeking Sophia/ she’s the spirit’s keeper/ remember when beepers were the coolest tech/ and nothing was rawer than “Protect Ya Neck”/ now it’s all suspect/ cuz it’s all about the ends/ so the music we neglect, disrespect/ who cares I wrote this in the E flat major/ cuz the keys are tossed like the aforementioned pager/ in the winds of trend/ like high top fades with no blend/ the other side/ is a place where anyone can hide/ where dead souls go/ where most rivers tend to flow/ with no rhyme, reason, or meter/ just arrhythmic beats and metaphysical speakers/ and lepers rejoice cuz they hear the good news/ cuz I remain in my dreams so I hit “snooze”/ from reality checks to utopian visions/ pardon me as I exit this infinite prison/ only to find myself swamped in the raging tides/ so I gotta see what’s on the other side…

It’s a part of me… A part of me… Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, Don’t Stop… I can’t escape/ what’s a part of me/ some call it “chakra”/ some call it “ki”/ my “reiatsu”/ sparks my creativity/ and then all three unite and become trinity/ that’s the danger/ when I read manga/ watch anime then pray that shit don’t have the last say/ and it’s like that/ and that’s the way it is/ and Jolowmight(x) Cervantes will handle his biz… It’s called Naruto/ and DBZ/ the trifecta is complete when we add Bleach/ because I’m going “Sage Mode”/ or “Super Saiyan”/ and in my “Hollow” form/ this Shinigami ain’t playin’/ but that’s not all/ there ain’t one single hero/ just ask Kakashi/ Ishida/ and my man Piccolo/ yeah we doing damage to single narratives/ cuz it’s like that/ what?/ and that’s the way it is/ huh! Call this a manifestation of material/ that emerged randomly, aberrantly, mercurial/ it’s ethereal/ evanescent/ and in the worst of times something should be present/ but seems absent/ justice, mercy, love/ chakra, ki, reiatsu/ who knew instrumentals could be so profound?/ and if this never sees airplay it won’t negate the sound/ Chakra, that lone voice in the wilderness/ Ki, that groan so unmistakable/ Reiatsu, a connection so unbreakable/ but they’re damaged/ we’re tarnished, yet at the same time varnished/ with afro-sheen/ a mean grimace/ a clenched fist/ and a big black pic/ but “race” can’t contain the love and indignation I feel/ so I watch anime and read manga/ And refuse to let ontology win/ I am more than “am”/ I am more than this/ I do not understand “to be or not to be?”/ question so untrue if you don’t add the “do.”/ “to do” and “to be”/ now I now philosophical ruminations ain’t allowed in mainstream hip-hop/ but it’s like the epiphany that made Moses heart drop, stop, and roll/ for a bush unconsumed/ one name can’t assume/ it refuses a name/ I refuse to let possibility die/ as I cry, shake, and lament, these tragic events/ of injury, death, and meaninglessness/ I doth protest/ some say it’s a fool’s errand/ a madness with no method/ but these three remain/ these three abide/ so I can’t hide for long/ cuz it’s endless/ but ‘til the day I die/ I’mma create and resist/ call them “faith,” “hope,” and “love”/ call them “chakra,” “ki,” “reiatsu”/ but never call them one title/ lest we make an idol/ cuz it’s like that/ and that’s the way it is/ no… cuz we’re like that/ and that’s what we do… Can’t Stop/ I won’t Stop…