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Blue Scholars
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1
(Always writing"¦ always revising)
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Shorty feels the pressure on his shoulders as he's liftin it
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Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
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Options at the bottom of the ladder got him desperate
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But all he ever wanted was a weapon to protect him with
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Riding a 36 through the veins of the beacon
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The water is the heart, its rainin when its beatin
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In the city that I sleep in I'm dreamin while I'm awake
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The miserable escape but theyre too high to ponder faith
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But who am I, to use their plight to illustrate a rhyme
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With everything around me that I've never had to live
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But I observe the inner qualities to serve the people properly
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Tell them that their freedom isn't found in private property
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Prostitutes are more than just the folks who sell their bodies
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See this shit applies to those whos souls are a commodity
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I can hear the colony callin me back to be
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The bullet in the belly while they lock, load, and squeeze
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Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
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Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
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They made a mockery out of the possibility
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But under constant revision is the poem that I be
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Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
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Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
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I be the emcee in the place not to be
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But under constant revision is the poem that I be
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Shorty feels oppression on his shoulders as he's liftin it
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Wonders why the elders always tell him not to question it
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Conjuring the courage just to conquer whats been killin him
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He says its fucked up cause he knows no other synonym
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Hidden from the truth, seen youths turned to troops
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Whos goal at 21 is to turn 22, true tuition's too high
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and those with the privelage to pay don't listen, it's a shame, go figurin
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The name of the father, the son and holy lyrics
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I suppose those who know what I'm sayin when they hear it
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Might rage against the system, or hate me for dissin
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The house in which they live in as a slave to the rhythm
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But I walk the broken sidewalk paved with the magic
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Of those who walk past it, just to survive traffic
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If paybacks a bitch, then gravity's a bastard
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Avenues I used to call familiar turned backward
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Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
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Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
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They made a mockery out of the possibility
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But under constant revision is the poem that I be
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Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
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Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
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I be the emcee in the place not to be
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But under constant revision is the poem that I be
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Yo.. shorty's getting grown old enough to read the messages
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Understands the elders as he then begins to question them
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One generation handed down what they've inherited
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Another generation rewriting the master narrative
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Older folks overdose on broken hopes often
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Children then begin to grow comatose and lost up
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In the clutches of the wickedest fingers
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Indicative of the systems inhibited
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Ability to listen to the voice of the dyin who've been tired of cryin
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Nightsticks fall where projectiles are flyin
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Through a straight path narrow like the gap between heaven and hell
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They skip class cause they goin to jail, true
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Students prevail when the knowledge is passed
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But others seem to fail sittin flat on their ass
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And now I be the emcee in the place not be
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Under constant revision in the poem that I be
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Rebel with a pen lettin off buckshots in threes
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Rewriting what it is into what it ought to be
67
I be the emcee in the place not to be
68
But under constant revision is the poem that I be
Blue Scholars - Lumiere
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