"Thank You" as written by Clarence O Paul, Edward Holland and William Stevenson....
Thank you.

After all the turmoil and tests,
The heat broiling,
The sweet toil and sweat,
I might hang up this b-boying and step to
A chalkboard or take a seat poised at a desk.
Still talking to youth,
Still talking it through,
This act,
When I black Christopher Walken the booth,
Dropping some truth that I picked off of this root.
I'm traveling many times,
I got lost in pursuit.

Didn't always get it right --
Some decisions, I question
From behind the mic when I
Spit in the session.
I'm talking life,
But not giving no lessons,
Some show me light
I just give a reflection of
The best pieces of my hometown,
Fleece in the whole crowd,
'Round the old streets
We would hold down.
No doubt, that commitment's giving me hope.
Now, good ground so mad seeds can grow out.
I look up to y'all, and when I look back,
I'm looking forward to more pictures to look at.

Gee, the rooms we never thought we could pack;
I knew I should try --
I knew I could rap,
But talking honest, I never thought I'd be good at,
And it's a jungle out here for a hood rat.
I pray for a good cat.
See how I put that?
Aw, I'm gassing --
Thank you!

Truthfully, I wanna rhyme like Common Sense,
And make that good music like Consequence.
They say my rhyming is a constant mix
Of blacking out on tracks and bringing consciousness.
Shouts to my circle -- my circumference --
For all the IOUs; no consonants.
Yeah, my whole crew,
They gave me confidence,
My few confidants,
Out to all my friends.
Now I'm proud of my van
And my Vancouver apartment.
A proud man is a man who went through hardships.
Don't say you can't;
You can do it regardless.
To the fans that helped us get started:
My fam, I gotta.
Thank you!

And send peace to the nation of Rwanda,
Where my momma and my father stay,
And pray for all my concerts --
Not for props; for honesty and honour in my conduct.
See, I was always taught to act my age,
Not my genre.

I'm just a product of the way I was brought up:
The bratty bravado and the "aw, shucks" persona.
My T-dotters that got it hot as a sauna,
Watching us rock College and Crawford,
Down at the Mod Club.
And T's gotta send a shout-out to 'Sauga.
He wants to say thank you and tell Hazel to holla.
It's all love, from the tops to the potlucks,
Grandview, continent, Moscow, I gotta.
Thank you!


Lyrics submitted by CAKunited

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