I had to travel light speed to dodge that black cloud
Rainin’ on my parade.
Sun shinin’ but there ain’t enough shade.
Blu, “Seasons,” Video, 2010
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Hit the barber for the taper, ‘fore I call Tracy,
Now my ex wanna trace my steps like Dick Tracy.
Chill on the pills love, you think I’m dicking Tracy?
Either she love me or she hate me…either way, she crazy.
How you picture tomorrow with the wrong frame of mind?
How you picture love, if you were blind?
I wonder, who do you believe in? I know it ain’t me,
I hope it ain’t a priest, or who you seen on TV.
I hope it ain’t your poppa, potna, he only raised you.
And I know it ain’t your mom, even though that’s who you came through…
You can call it hell…
But I say it’s below the heavens.
Fuck jewels: I think my soul glows bright enough.
And fuck whips: I learn more when I ride the bus.
And fuck, it’s bad enough that we fight for bucks.
And fuck hoes: cause in the end I need a wife to love.
As the wind made love to the seas,
The sand danced to the rhythm of the breeze.
Every day is like a blank canvas,
Carving my initials in the planet like I brand it.
Hand-picked to live this life we take for granted,
Like a child with an upright bass, we can’t stand it.