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about
Produced by Q-Tilla for Q-Tilla Beats.
lyrics
So what the hell's gonna happen when we all go burn out/ Ashes to ashes, won't you melt my urn down/ When I leave just keep the music and the memories/ My flesh is the lesser, all it did was hinder me/ Peace to those close who made a friend of me/ Who recognized there was never a pretend to be/ Sorry for the cynicism, that's just me/ Thanks for all the criticism, I let that be/ These verses & this city dwarf me/ But support me, bet that the pavement ain't ignore me/ Lended me a crutch, when I's struck with a limp/ Been a couple stops, they were abrupt and they bent/ Mentally, physically/ you never end up what you intend to be/ Resentfully some times, I sit and ponder the past/ Take a quick drag and then respond with a glass/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*] /What true passion will take/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The sacrifices you’ll make/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The best of you it’ll break/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ And what’s left of you stays/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ What confusion can do/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ What illusion construes/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ The many uses of you/
(You) [*Don’t Understand*]/ And what in the hell you are doing to you/
/Corruption, seduction, money, and scandal/ Prostituted morals for sum cash in a satchel/ Fear, infighting, and perception of value/ Of one-self, brings problems that are nothing about you/ Wanna jump the gun, but your scared if you stand out/ So you blend with the crowd of emotional handouts/ Now it’s a contest of who’s got it the hardest/ Instead of kind words, you play competitive martyrs/ All the while suits start molesting the market/ Economy dwindles, and you forget how it got there/ I take a breath, and I stop, stare/ …..How in the hell do you not care/ Congresswoman shot right out in the public/ And everybody acts like it’s sensitive subject/ There’s that amendment you covet/ Dearly beloved does it feel like your brain took a scrubbing/ Imagine the rich one percent creating diversion/ When between us and them, whose pockets are hurting/ Bailouts to keep huge corporations a rolling/ Uh, I think my capitalism is broken/
/If Obama is Muslim, umm….why would he hide it? /Cause when YOU think Muslim, you thinking Al-Qaeda/ Imagine being hated for the God that you pray to/ Then YOU turn around and ask yours to save you/ Hypocrisy is limitless/ I should I know, I make camp in the tenement/ So much time spent fingering treason/ When it’s a long walk on back to Eden/ Days like these, when I bask in the seasons/ Cause they change on time for a actual reason/Never point a hand or do they call me a heathen/ And give a damn less if I’m Crocker or Stephen/Yeah, I take comfort in that/ Never a crossroads or a juncture for that/ It’s the simplest pleasure, that’ll keep you in check/ One free from creditors or the rules of a debt/
credits
from The Muta Scale,
released May 9, 2011
T. Crocker, Jr., Q. Harris
An honest, polite, riveting emcee that's smart, earnest, and at times sarcastic. Listening to Ghani, you'll wonder to yourself if he really means it or if he's just punking you. Highly recommended. Crocker