20 weeks ago i started stabbing syntax, shunning linguistic swordplay,
thesis foreplay for four days of metaphors that paid me to slay lyrical
content with big words and over-priced verbs and two-thirds of
incoherent blurbs, traveling in herds, quote unquote juxtaposed when
they step on eachother's toes, call eachother names, use put downs
/ quit horsing around, im trying to rap for my friends /
cus i have two cents on sorrow and a nickle on regret. i put a dollar on
tomorrow and assume all my debts. with a loan from self worth,
having paid off self pity, with a fistful of mic, and a mouthful of city
[flint of gruvis malt:]
i wrote this composition on a flight to LA
i may be locked in at home but right here i'm inspectin the neck section
of the stewardess who step fetchin
can't stop from guessin which direction i could take to get to undress
this soft lesson
smilin while she hands me a drink
i haven't written for four months and this woman pulled it out of me
leave it up to sexual curiosity to spark my creativity
i've always been an advocate for feminism
but American Airlines has some hella fine weaponry
this is flight five billion for me
and most of the time i feel most grounded when my head's in the clouds, literally
it's pitiful how i remember turbulence vividly
why good times visit; quickly steamin the bathroom mirror
with happiness out of the way, my career vision becomes clearer
can't kick it for more than two hours baby
i have to make sure these packages get sent out
you knew the rules when you got into this
you want attention undivided? no, i can't play that part
your design is quite distracting, but you can't compete with art
maintain a parallel, if you wanna share my time
cuz when i set my plans you'll find yourself buried in my rhymes
so once you see me posted on a curb, on the corner of Shattuck and Hearst
with a notepad and a pen - you'll see me again
backstage at a show, with a bloody nose and a lip just the same
with only a mic to blame - you'll see me again
at the laundromat, bobbin my head to the beat of a dryer
swooning over a girl putting up flyers for a punk rock show - you'll see me again
at the goodwill, out of money, askin for 10s 5s and 20s
risin the selection of the ugly sweater section - you'll see me again
asleep on the bus, or atop the bandstand
with a backpack to my side, or a mic in my hand
whether dreaming on mass transit, or manhandling the stage
it's all for the best, my mind's in the right place.
