(Always writing... always revising)
Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin' it
Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
The water is the heart, its rainin' when its beatin'
In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin' while I'm awake
The miserable escape but they're too high to ponder faith
But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
With everything around me that I've never had to live
Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
See this ******t applies to those whose souls are a commodity
I can hear the colony callin' me back to be
The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
They made a mockery out of the possibility
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
Conjuring the courage just to conquer whats been killin him
He says its ****** up cause he knows no other synonym
Whos goal at 21 is to turn 22, true tuition's too high
and those with the privelage to pay don't listen, it's a shame, go figurin'
The name of the father, the son and holy lyrics
I suppose those who know what I'm sayin' when they hear it
Might rage against the system, or hate me for dissin'
The house in which they live in as a slave to the rhythm
But I walk the broken sidewalk paved with the magic
Of those who walk past it, just to survive traffic
If paybacks a bitch, gravity's a bastard
Avenues I used to call familiar turned backward
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
They made a mockery out of the possibility
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Yo.. shorty's getting grown, old enough to read the messages
Understands the elders as he then begins to question them
One generation handed down what they've inherited
Another generation rewriting the master narrative
Children then begin to grow comatose and lost up
In the clutches of the wickedest fingers
Indicative of the systems inhibited
Ability to listen to the voice of the dyin who've been tired of cryin'
Nightsticks fall where projectiles are flyin'
Through a straight path narrow like the gap between heaven and hell
They skip class cause they know it's a jail, true
Students prevail when the knowledge is passed
But others seem to fail sittin flat on their ass
And now I be the emcee in the place not be
Under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:00.00](Always writing... always revising)
[00:10.74]Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin' it
[00:13.53]Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
[00:18.78]But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
[00:21.57]Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
[00:24.18]The water is the heart, its rainin' when its beatin'
[00:26.73]In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin' while I'm awake
[00:29.55]The miserable escape but they're too high to ponder faith
[00:31.95]But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
[00:34.92]With everything around me that I've never had to live
[00:43.11]Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
[00:45.57]See this ******t applies to those whose souls are a commodity
[00:48.51]I can hear the colony callin' me back to be
[00:51.12]The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze
[00:54.00]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[00:56.49]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[00:59.22]They made a mockery out of the possibility
[01:01.59]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[01:04.71]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[01:07.20]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[01:10.02]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[01:12.39]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[01:20.94]Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
[01:23.64]Conjuring the courage just to conquer whats been killin him
[01:26.16]He says its ****** up cause he knows no other synonym
[01:31.44]Whos goal at 21 is to turn 22, true tuition's too high
[01:35.67]and those with the privelage to pay don't listen, it's a shame, go figurin'
[01:39.69]The name of the father, the son and holy lyrics
[01:42.27]I suppose those who know what I'm sayin' when they hear it
[01:44.91]Might rage against the system, or hate me for dissin'
[01:47.85]The house in which they live in as a slave to the rhythm
[01:50.46]But I walk the broken sidewalk paved with the magic
[01:53.10]Of those who walk past it, just to survive traffic
[01:55.92]If paybacks a bitch, gravity's a bastard
[01:58.74]Avenues I used to call familiar turned backward
[02:01.35]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[02:03.87]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[02:06.69]They made a mockery out of the possibility
[02:09.03]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[02:18.18]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[02:21.03]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[02:31.68]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[02:37.68]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[02:45.78]Yo.. shorty's getting grown, old enough to read the messages
[02:49.98]Understands the elders as he then begins to question them
[02:52.68]One generation handed down what they've inherited
[02:55.29]Another generation rewriting the master narrative
[03:00.66]Children then begin to grow comatose and lost up
[03:03.18]In the clutches of the wickedest fingers
[03:05.34]Indicative of the systems inhibited
[03:07.44]Ability to listen to the voice of the dyin who've been tired of cryin'
[03:11.46]Nightsticks fall where projectiles are flyin'
[03:13.92]Through a straight path narrow like the gap between heaven and hell
[03:17.04]They skip class cause they know it's a jail, true
[03:19.71]Students prevail when the knowledge is passed
[03:22.14]But others seem to fail sittin flat on their ass
[03:24.57]And now I be the emcee in the place not be
[03:27.45]Under constant revision is the poem that I be
[03:30.33]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[03:32.85]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[03:40.38]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[03:48.78]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
(Always writing... always revising)
Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin' it
Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
The water is the heart, its rainin' when its beatin'
In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin' while I'm awake
The miserable escape but they're too high to ponder faith
But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
With everything around me that I've never had to live
Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
See this ******t applies to those whose souls are a commodity
I can hear the colony callin' me back to be
The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
They made a mockery out of the possibility
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
Conjuring the courage just to conquer whats been killin him
He says its ****** up cause he knows no other synonym
Whos goal at 21 is to turn 22, true tuition's too high
and those with the privelage to pay don't listen, it's a shame, go figurin'
The name of the father, the son and holy lyrics
I suppose those who know what I'm sayin' when they hear it
Might rage against the system, or hate me for dissin'
The house in which they live in as a slave to the rhythm
But I walk the broken sidewalk paved with the magic
Of those who walk past it, just to survive traffic
If paybacks a bitch, gravity's a bastard
Avenues I used to call familiar turned backward
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
They made a mockery out of the possibility
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Yo.. shorty's getting grown, old enough to read the messages
Understands the elders as he then begins to question them
One generation handed down what they've inherited
Another generation rewriting the master narrative
Children then begin to grow comatose and lost up
In the clutches of the wickedest fingers
Indicative of the systems inhibited
Ability to listen to the voice of the dyin who've been tired of cryin'
Nightsticks fall where projectiles are flyin'
Through a straight path narrow like the gap between heaven and hell
They skip class cause they know it's a jail, true
Students prevail when the knowledge is passed
But others seem to fail sittin flat on their ass
And now I be the emcee in the place not be
Under constant revision is the poem that I be
Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
I be the emcee in the place not to be
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
🎵 LRC歌词版本
[00:00.00](Always writing... always revising)
[00:10.74]Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin' it
[00:13.53]Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
[00:18.78]But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
[00:21.57]Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
[00:24.18]The water is the heart, its rainin' when its beatin'
[00:26.73]In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin' while I'm awake
[00:29.55]The miserable escape but they're too high to ponder faith
[00:31.95]But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
[00:34.92]With everything around me that I've never had to live
[00:43.11]Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
[00:45.57]See this ******t applies to those whose souls are a commodity
[00:48.51]I can hear the colony callin' me back to be
[00:51.12]The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze
[00:54.00]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[00:56.49]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[00:59.22]They made a mockery out of the possibility
[01:01.59]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[01:04.71]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[01:07.20]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[01:10.02]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[01:12.39]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[01:20.94]Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
[01:23.64]Conjuring the courage just to conquer whats been killin him
[01:26.16]He says its ****** up cause he knows no other synonym
[01:31.44]Whos goal at 21 is to turn 22, true tuition's too high
[01:35.67]and those with the privelage to pay don't listen, it's a shame, go figurin'
[01:39.69]The name of the father, the son and holy lyrics
[01:42.27]I suppose those who know what I'm sayin' when they hear it
[01:44.91]Might rage against the system, or hate me for dissin'
[01:47.85]The house in which they live in as a slave to the rhythm
[01:50.46]But I walk the broken sidewalk paved with the magic
[01:53.10]Of those who walk past it, just to survive traffic
[01:55.92]If paybacks a bitch, gravity's a bastard
[01:58.74]Avenues I used to call familiar turned backward
[02:01.35]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[02:03.87]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[02:06.69]They made a mockery out of the possibility
[02:09.03]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[02:18.18]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[02:21.03]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[02:31.68]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[02:37.68]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
[02:45.78]Yo.. shorty's getting grown, old enough to read the messages
[02:49.98]Understands the elders as he then begins to question them
[02:52.68]One generation handed down what they've inherited
[02:55.29]Another generation rewriting the master narrative
[03:00.66]Children then begin to grow comatose and lost up
[03:03.18]In the clutches of the wickedest fingers
[03:05.34]Indicative of the systems inhibited
[03:07.44]Ability to listen to the voice of the dyin who've been tired of cryin'
[03:11.46]Nightsticks fall where projectiles are flyin'
[03:13.92]Through a straight path narrow like the gap between heaven and hell
[03:17.04]They skip class cause they know it's a jail, true
[03:19.71]Students prevail when the knowledge is passed
[03:22.14]But others seem to fail sittin flat on their ass
[03:24.57]And now I be the emcee in the place not be
[03:27.45]Under constant revision is the poem that I be
[03:30.33]Rebel with a pen lettin' off buckshots in threes
[03:32.85]Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
[03:40.38]I be the emcee in the place not to be
[03:48.78]But under constant revision is the poem that I be
(The wind, the wind)
(Ha)
Sister sits on the steps
Cigarette rests on fingertips
Takes a sip of slow death deftly through her lips,
She blows a kiss
W...
One, gets on stage
Two, grab the mic
(Like this)
It's been long years gone since we rocked the linoleum
In the most awkward b-boy stance you can imagi...
Left, right left, check it out
It goes left, right, left and we're marchin' on
Molotov cocktail party at the White House
Fire in the hole of the Oval ...
This is the scene you been seeing all your life
The one inside a dream you repeated every night
For 24 frames every second through the light
What you ...
No matter where you are a struggles near by
And there ain’t enough time for loves to say hi
A fire to remind us what we really look like in the dark
S...
(verse)
Live from occupied Duwamish territory
Where Carlos Bulosan once lived to tell the story
Of the brain, sweat, and glory of mic checks and men
W...
“I don't know Bill, you know, uh, there might be somebody out there listening, you never can tell, you know?”
To the graduating class of 2000-whatever...
(I don't know what to write… Oh well - Yo)
I offer nothing but the uncertain promise
That I'll honestly pursue the crooked path of the conscious
Not j...
And I can see the consequence of capital first-hand, monorail construction pushed the tenants off the land
Silence won't protect me so I check one-two...