Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Crowd Anthem

Everybody listen up now,
throw your hands up in this crowd.
Turn up the treble and the bass so loud.
We're doin' this for all of y'all.

Yo these things that I write that I know I will record,
they got me trying to put my spirit through the headphone cord
cause days later you might have it in your player and guess
what type of chronic text the fonix is gonna connect next.
I surmise that a mic as my disguise might get me into these eyes
which I might otherwise miss. Though somehow a kiss is what I get
when I wouldn't get shit if I didn't have phonetic vocals on the tracks that I spit.
I miss my homies, all across the globe, roaming so we can't kick it,
why I rip it and deploying growing tired of living on the road,
groaning stomach, feeling old, with no one simple abode
that I can call home.
I discover peace when thinking about those that deceased,
release stress from my soul as I unfold like a crease.
Memories are all I have left, so my quest to get the best
out of life and somehow the teach the rest.
That's why I do it, should you listen or screw it
I think the knowledge that I drop is got all the way around to it.

Everybody listen up now,
throw your hands up in this crowd.
Turn up the treble and the bass so loud.
We're doin' this for all of y'all.

Well I whip out this sharpie, put words on the page.
You say it's artsy, but that's how I pray.
Now that's my diction, the way to bring motion,
that's how I give thanks to the sky; to the ocean.
Life is a scale, yo, you gotta find the balance:
recognize your weaknesses as well as your talents.
And these words help me see my limitations-
need to grow in certain areas and learn with patience.
I'll fly like a hawk, swoop like an eagle,
snatch up my prey, the truth is in the people,
cause my spirit's in the animal. My spirit's in the sun,
it radiates in the darkness, you know the universe is one.
Everything, everyone plays a role:
the insects die young and the rocks grow old,
the trees provide the seeds and the oxygen to breathe,
the bees pollinate with the flowers which compete with the weeds.
Landscapes all tell their own stories:
jungles, deserts, forests, and quarries.
I've seen the darkness envelop the fog.
I've seen the leopard prey on the fawn.
Raccoons scour inner-city trash cans.
We look to the sky and measure wing-spans.
Goddess of the rain bring pain, bring change,
help the seeds grow- new grains, new names.
Now, Father of the fire- the passion and desire:
burn down the cities with magma when we're tired.
We'll start a new cycle, reinvent our society,
after the ashes fall from skyscrapers all fiery.

So what he means is the meaning and our poems shine gleaming
so let it light up those shady corridors, you're walking head-hanging.
Keep your head up, Pac's message lives on, I'm fed up with ignorance,
I'm swinging mental infants- watch your head, duck!
You motherfuckers need to zoom out on the angle,
there's three dimensions, no big picture, let your camera dangle.
I create to expand what you make to include,
a segment of my mood, your mind-state's fucking pregnant dude.
So when my voice touches your lobes and inspiration explodes
it's not your choice to hold it out cause your will should corrode.
If it doesn't than I wasn't meant to be an mc
and fonix doesn' exist I'm f r a n z.
Yo provocative diction, it's got me slipping to the opposite,
poppin shit off at the mouth at the chart and then we're toppin it.

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