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Dojo
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1
War; something many have not experienced before.
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Sleeping on the floor, hoping they don't kick in your door
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hoping for one day more to get a breath of fresh air.
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Your lives spared another hour. You sit and you stare
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out the living room window, creating your own limbo
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as your circle of friends is looking more like an enso.
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You're drunk off of that jin, though. You know that it's a no-no.
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Now your mind is like a pogo and your clarity is so-so.
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You grab your newest weapon. A sweet pea shooter
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that'll never stop a warrior but make an evil doer
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out of frail cats not well aquainted with the beef
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thinking that you're slick to try and sneak up on a chief.
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It's a steep fail:success rate. You'll get your chest plate
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cracked and your body sent down stream. Critical check mate.
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You'll meet your death date all because your ego was swollen up
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to the point that your logic was far from holdin' up.
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--
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You should've been rolling up the Buddha nature easy.
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Coulda got your mind straight, but now you're acting sleazy.
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You replicate the t.v. with sickening pinpoint accuracy
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and I'm just stuck in awe wondering when will you foolish bastards see;
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that everything is sold to you. You're doing what you're told to do
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thinking individuality is some broken social tool.
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Sadly you're just hopeless fools and that fact seems concrete.
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I even crafted words carefully on this calm beat
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hoping I could reach a youth's ears before he's slain
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in the streets or gets grasped by the hunger and pain
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of a cold world. Inner city urban tale unfolding,
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proving you ain't gotta go West for Fear and Loathing.
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You focus on the clothing. You focus on the particles
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that blink before your eyes, ignoring every article
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of evidence I provide to smash your whack hypothesis.
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I'd go in greater detail but would rather cue the prolepsis.
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-
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How many funerals must you attend before you stop trying to pretend
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this fabricated thug life won't have had you make your end?
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The message I send with raw slang and attitude
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can be a testament to how you don't have to act as rude
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or so gritty. You don't have to terrorize your city
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or throw up gang signs. That life ain't pretty.
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To make a mark in history you have to make a statement
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and never stop to ask yourself where the empty hate went.
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With knowledge on my plate, I invite you to this banquet
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to relieve the pressure of potential stretcher and the blanket
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pulled over your cold shell. No immortal soul
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but you're trapped in Hell til you die or try to make the drama fold.
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That's how my momma told me growing at a young age.
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Avoid the drug dealing life, avoid the jealousy and rage.
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Cause when the blade's drawn there's no skipping tracks or rewind,
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so take the one life you're given with a clear mind.
Doja Cat - Boss Bitch (Lyrics)
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