Lyrics: “let the choir sing and can I get a amen? We made another day so now the congregation breathes and lights another candle for the fallen man and their voices cry a river through the echo of their harmonies. And those who remain standing on the rubble now branded with the scars of battle, candidly developed thru the dark room. Their images a stark view of life under the bell jar. Sylvia aint know the half of where our hell start where shots ring when angels get their wings and devils on patrol use bodies for targeting. Shit, we almost make this thing seem rather easy. So cool while yo crew coon for tv, while our grandmothers weep in their graves their memories deeply in vain. There’s change brewing and the remedy is steeped in our pain. I’ll sleep when I’ve lain in the belly of the earth, until then I’ll keep beating on your brain til I’m heard.
I used to be afraid of revealing my feelings freely I put a cap on emotions- hoping they’re trapped by the ceiling. Impact of the worlds weight was too much for my shoulders, like atlas I held my fate cuz I failed to embrace my blessed healing. And building don’t seem to be an option no more. Everytime we lay the mortar, bricks are knocked to the floor. So pyramids are still in utero, dreams are now aborted, while prolifers shame us so their ghosts are haunting our thoughts. Am I guilty-of course. I’ve strayed from the course when empty pages make me question my choice. and I leave the mic alone. Leave the babies souls exposed to withstand the fight alone. I cant do it. That’s something my conscience will not condone. so I pledge allegiance to the freedom fighters blood that wont settle in my bones. I do it for every ghetto imbedded with broken homes. and better my flow with every poem that I propose, and hope that you get my letters addressed to the future, gone.
I’m not the last but I’m last of dying breed. The most wanted mc born of a dire need. I want you all to feel what really inspires me, I hold up the mirror so you’re reflected inside of me. i write to give life to these rhymes they just might be the kind to free a nation-pass the mic and I’ll try. To make a thinker out an idling mind, they say im out of my mind to think we can be saved with music, I’ll prove you wrong on my release date. See you on that Tuesday. I’ll be with them fives slinging hope like them white cakes. shaking sleeping gods and hoping that they might wake. With heavy enough bars to rattle on the light-weight. How many times have I advised you to take heed and to allow your eyes to widen to the possibilities of freedom thru a major melody set to minor keys. Well here you have it. p.s. from the mighty starseed.”-Sa-Roc
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