 |
| Browse: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z |
 Songs
 Albums
|
|
C'mon, Yeah I like to take this opportunity, to thank everybody who been riding with me so far It's a been a long journey But they say your life's path is not about the destination It's all about the journey I appreciate y'all It's my blood, sweat, tears, years Struggle, love, hate, fear New york city! You could make it here, you could make it anywhere I came to prepare For the rain, hail, sleet, snow Whatever the weather, we ride Let my people go! To a place where knowledge is born We welcome you to the 3rd eye of the storm Check it out! Futuristic lyricist, straight from the renaissance Top of the suffer chain, raps up a edge a lot My people suffering, slave to another chain This voyage is maiden, like my mother of the name Is this your first trip to hell? Avenge a capitalist, if it's a product then we got it for sell When I first started to spell, my words fell into rhymes Turned into songs, everything else fell into line I paint the pictures, you could see the people bleeding my bars When I was a teen, I was mean, about to reach for the stars So if I fail or fell, write in the clouds, tighten the vowel Niggaz word, there use to be no bitin allowed Now the gangsters no grindin' allowed Probably see a fight in the stage, fore you see a fight in the crowd I send this out to my people facing the storm Homie we riding it out You inspire what I'm writing about It's the 3rd eye of the storm Check it out! Been fucking around! I'm not a judge, but I'm handing out sentences To political prisoners, regular inmates with no visitors Niggaz in the streets outside to reach up for ministers Not those that say they spiritual, but actual parishoners Rap listeners, we open the black businesses This underground shit, with samples to lack clearances Once you get a past appearances You could tell who shit is fake and who's shit is based upon the past experiences We really been to war, hand to hand like crack sales Bill the man, the man they try to kill off the blackmail Female left to raise up a son From the day he was one Til' he twenty, and he raise up a gun Get the blazin, fore the blaze of the sun Smoke bracin' his lung Young in his years and he's facing a ton None of his peers wanna share the road Love the child, care to provider But they hand a blunt and share saliva You ain't a rider And you hustlin' backwards To many excess, with imitating these crackers So our kids looking up to drug dealers and rappers Taking away all the work away from our black actors Revelation is first and armageddon is after Tsunami's, hurricanes and natural disasters Fast food culture be this, is always a factor It's the gratification They want the cash faster! It's the 3rd eye of the storm It's the place where knowledge is born! Check it out! check it out! Talib Kweli! That's what it is... Break it down |
Videos
|
Add
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.