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Emanon
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1
Call me the rapscallion
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A rogue rhyme sayer single-handed battalion
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Thoroughbred pedigree like a black stallion
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The pale horse couldn't come close to pose a challenge
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And rappers pale in comparison to my styling
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I'm dropping knowledge while they narrow minds popping violence
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I listen for truth, all I hear is a calm silence
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I'm looking for proof all I see is my mom's smiling
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Beaming proud ‘cause I stopped buggin and wilding,
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Everyman is an island â€"
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--I stand alone like the cheese
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Everyman is connected separated by six degrees
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Walk the path of enlightenment down the road on we ease
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By inches the gaps squeeze approaching our destinies
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Breathe out in a cycle that we share with the trees
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And sway aimless like a branch catch the rhythm of breeze
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Always going but never knowing where fate may lead
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Listen to my elders remember to take they head
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Even when you smile meanwhile somebody else bleeds
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And rose gardens get infected by weeds….
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Never admire desires over necessities
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I take time to balance out all of my wants and needs
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Keeping time, I tap my left hand on my knee
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And with my right I write a style that's free……….
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Running away from yesterday
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Time is passing and I can not stay
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Bless the children is what I say
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I write the words and I give them away
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I was born educated, I escalated to a
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Style that's elevated- - above the average
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Suckas who never made it - still trying to show out
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But I never paraded, it's kind of faded
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The way they stay jaded â€" from really knowing what's going on
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It's like they stuck upon the same song
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I aim strong, above my goals because I know
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That gravity is pulling me back down to the floor
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So I prepare my presentation just before I deliver
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Pull another verbal arrow up out of my quiver
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Yo, I'm a precious piece of history
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People are still trying to figure out the mystery
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Ancient like the streets of Sicily
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I got the itch to be a high speed pitch fastball swing and a miss
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Blacker than the abyss, and good for ya like a fat bowl of grits
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I commandeer the mic and I spits
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Shooting verbal knowledge at little kids
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I use my voice box instead of boxing with fists
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But square up on a square when I'm pissed - So where's the list
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The class is in session but weak niggaz is dismissed
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Go on back to the lab and practice
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Counting my blessing on the lessons that I've been stressing
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Lounging with essence guessing I've chosen the right profession
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Get up and motivate to the spot and I'm rolling late
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But anyway that's how we play out in the golden state
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Big up my man he shakes my hand I pat him on the back
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The salutations met with traditional wise crack
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After the laughs we get to business for the afternoon
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Reach in my bag and grab the CD packed full of tunes
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Turn up the bass boost so we could feel the subs boom
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Walls shaking feel like the earth quaking in the room
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Make a selection choose the dopest of the dopest
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For the rhyme session beats got to keep lyrics in focus
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And vice versa, creating aural inertia
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Moving forces with a purpose like fluid sounds to immerse ya
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