Something To Speak About

Clyde Carson

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    I'm Huey P. Newton with Air Force One's on
    Doctor Martin Luther King with two guns on
    I'm one zone short of a break
    One chronic blunt away from a classic
    I'm a motherfucking bastard... literally
    I let my lyrics overflow on the page
    Until they spill on the beat
    I do what you niggas can't
    I am what you niggas ain't
    You say you an artist motherfucker then paint...
    That's the base line
    The motivation for Jamie to play rape line...
    I paint pictures in my mind
    Imagine who dead if I see a flat line
    You niggas ain't like me
    And it's likely that I'm Spike Lee in some coke white Nikes
    At the Knicks game with my legs crossed like a boss
    How a nigga from Compton become the talk of New York?

    We been broke so long it's so hard
    Hiding from behind my scars
    That's something to just think about...
    It was no dope, just hope in my heart
    Tired of reaching for the stars
    Now, I'm something you can speak about

    Look into my eyes, ain't too much I ain't seen
    Except death and the penitentiary gates leave...
    My mark on the world 'fore I cut
    The artist homie spoken with the potenent brush
    Paint a picture of a world made up
    I try to be different but I'm just like them
    Fairy tales and fantasies of made up jims
    I never went as far as rocking fake ones still...
    The pressures of life, if that's the career
    To say what they want, and not what you feel
    What's inside your soul is uncomfortable fear
    To let it out the only way you be clear
    Ain't been in a Lear
    But you can bet I rapped about it
    So far life good without it
    Strive for what's great though the hood is grounded
    And punishment can't leave the block but I'm bouncing

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    We been broke so long it's so hard
    Hiding from behind my scars
    That's something to just think about...
    It was no dope just hope in my heart
    Tired of reaching for the stars
    Now, I'm something you can speak about

    Aye homie I'm just talking my shit
    Everyday hustle I'm just authoring hits
    Scorsese penned last puff then flick
    Light up and let the world hear this
    Sharp as the guitar that plays in the background
    Torn as the baton that's passed from the playground
    Youngen with the slick tongue thugin'
    Years later, opened up the oven
    Years later, who knew that they love me
    And thank me for everyday hustling
    Consider me the king but I act like I don't want it
    Lab rat, elaborate, rapping performance, stage is enormous
    Doing my gig
    Feeling myself like Mac D.R.E
    We be the best like Fat Joe dj
    The ghetto to a multi-mil estate to know that...

    We been broke so long it's so hard
    Hiding from behind my scars
    Now, that's something to just think about...
    It was no dope just hope in my heart
    Tired of reaching for the stars
    Now, I'm something you can speak about

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