:L.A.:
the City of AngeLs
the City of Hopes & Dreams,
Dopes and Dope Fiends
(paLms, WstWd, & eVn LoVe 4 ShorLine)


:thA yAy:
self explanatory
(MACarthr pArk tHeSe dAys, but stiLL reppN tHe bLoCks tht made me who eye am... BushRod! 59th & Shatty. Lyke whuTT! )
***{[R.I.P. Zillian]}***
U wer a TRU soldier... We'LL miss U whiLe wer stiLL here but tht wont b Long...& mke sur u gossum krySTALL redy 4 whn we get up there...1.


aLso, much REEspct 2 AsTRo PArk, AcoRnS, LoWeLL pArk, dEferMerY, gHoSt toWn & MarsLen CampbeLL mEMoriaL, 18th & West
***{[R.I.P. Aunty Marva]}***
You were like a mother to all of us. We Love You and We Miss You, but we keep with us the lessons you taught us along the way...


she asked me how come sometimes you tell em you’re Sicilian
and others you tell you’re ItaLian
how come some times you impress em with your written shit
and sometimes you get em free-STYLIN
how can he charcteriza iamic penta-meters
and sometimes you have to much SYM-PATH-Y
and though sometimes you look at me as a brother
and sometimes you look right past me
you don’t just ignore me
ima ghost you don’t see me at all or know me enough to look past me...

if I’m a mulatto
of an Italian and a mulatto
how come I can still be a white modeL
I can be an exposé of the conquered people
the rich folks from other hoods can come take pictures with me
and tell stories of how they met me
or sell fabricated accounts to the paparazzi

they never knew iTaLians

its cuz cats our bloods in the bay
and crips in LA
and cuz they don’t know the rep that comes with T.J.
not to be cocky
but me and my brother built one rep in OakLand
started over with ALAmeda honkeys
the bottom of the barreL who stiLL make jokes about "MON-KEES"
they were racist rednecks, but I'm glad that's behind me
and cat's who still want it, know where they can find me.

"we don’t mix with these people
what type of offspring would that yield?
haLf peopLe, non-peopLe"
--Saxon dude in King Arthur

y'all really should watch that shit.
Antoine Fuqua is respected
cuz his shit is historically accurate
(police boy, Maiden:
Look those words up.
It means "dat shit really happn'd.")
Anyway. it has Keira KnightLy (my wife to be)
And it will also teach you some shit about me...
Hint: King Arthur is torn between allegiance
to his mother's people
and allegiance to his father's...

you don’t know that moms was a mulatto for one reason
but she chose the darker side
like, "fuck y'all! why hide?"
while pops was a muLatto
because his mom was irish
and his pops was a “mut”
but he chose to play the white side so he wasn't caLLed a "nut."
and though one of his brothers could conk his hair
the other was WAY TO DARK TO PASS
and I iNDENTiFy with the dark side,
propagandized to mean evil
when reaLLY they just meant more pigmented. 1.


cuz these days,
how many artists are conXious of every word
songs about passion
I remember reading poetry in my high-school English class… we were assigned to analyze the authors work line-by-line... I want students to do have to do that with my lyrics someday...
_______________________________________________________________________

Cindy Sheeyhan wants Bush to tell her
why her son died.
he told them why their sons were SENT to Iraq
and it was a LIE--
so reconcile with me.
tell us what they DIED for...

I support you Mz. Sheeyhan
and all the mothers who sympathize...
my condolences goes out...
to all the mothers who know what it's like to watch their son's commanding officer drive up and know the news before they even reach the door
and all the mothers who weren't even shown the respect of
notice in person
but instead found out from an envelope
which looked far-too-official to be good news
and to all the mothers
who feel an inexplicable distaste for what we call democracy
during the 21-gun sallute.
to all the mothers and fathers who know.
and to all of those that don't.
you are in our prayers.
________________________________________

Senior Banquet

and in every picture
there's an extra pair of footprints in the sand
to remind me of where i am
and all the times i ran...

there musta been somethin to see and i missed it
memory strands unraveled and twisted
we're we really that close
if we even existed?
was her hand in my pants?
was that before she had kissed it?

all i can see is our face
and the top of our chests
and the trail
of the rest
of her arms i could guess
but i couldnt be sure
cuz my mind was a mess
i'd rather be wrong
than afraid to confess

"was that before or after we went up to the deck
and my other one asked if we could talk for a sec?"

im trynna put together
the food on my plate.
was that appetizer bread
or dessert and it's late?

either way i have the memory
so i can sit back and laugh
cuz that was the night
before i broke you in half

it's better than the movie theater
im lookin cats in the eyes
they're sittin across the table
while you're makin me rise

i'm holdin a conversation
and holdin my concentration
im holdin it back a little
until you're holdin my condensation
and the fact that my ex is across the room
only increases the temptation...

and in every picture
there's 2 pairs of footprints in the sand
one of 'em leads to a younger me
and one to me as a man...BR>
_________________________________________

what if all i could do
was write letters to you

sometimes i think i lost my muse
because i lack the present memory of words echoing how much i've influenced them.


what if my poetry was just an honest journal
an autobiography expressed lyrically?

what if she told me
that my words
stood behind her when she was depressed
and felt alone in this world?

what if he told you
that hearing your voice
on ONE verse
made him wanna start wRIGHTing?

would u still think i was a joke?

the TRUE ones
are those who can read my words
and write a response that soothes me.
______________________________________________

T, L it just hurts me to see you
makin the same mistakes my mother did
and a true martyr might have died to save you
to show you a better way
even if you didn't want one.
_______________________________________________

P...
Babygirl
for the times i havent made these things clear to you...
i just want you to know some of the things i say about you when you're not here...

she's a real woman, that i can call my at-home girl
cuz she'll tell you to your face, "bra, you need to get your own girl."

she's business-minded, educated, gonna be a pediatrician
she does enough good in this world to redeem my evil submissions.

she's dignified. only raises her voice when she has to
doesn't gotta be a debutaunt to catch your eye walkin past you

she gets attention without havin to wild-out and beg for it
without havin to show off her ass an her legs for it

she's not a foxy brown, she's Beyonce, i can see her when she's talkin...

continued in my own song...
_____________________________________

This song is dedicated to everyone.
Myspace is one of life’s paradoxes...
Because how can you be completely intimate with something that can be read by anyone in the world?
But at the same time, isn’t it easier if they don’t know you?
You say you can’t be involved with anybody you have to second-doubt…
that's funny in so many ways
I just try to be as real as I can be with myself. And then as real with everyone else as they deserve.
But P is my Heart
And I could never be heartless
Because regardless of how sweaty the sheets is,
Everyone needs to know that you’re not as important as She is.
Everyone needs to know but most importantly She does.
Cuz I’m at a place with Her where I never have to doubt her
It’s not that i don't got love for ya,
you just cant know everything about Her.

She’s my Diary, you’re more of like a myspace pal.
But she’s the only one who knows more than these myspace gals.
Cause these days shits so monitored how could I bother rappin about shit I don’t live?
If you can’t respect that your whole perspective is whack.
Maybe you’ll love me when I fade to black.
_________________________________________

she told me, "I'm an artist."
thats when it hit me hardest.
i stuttered momentarily
her bumper sticker made me pause.
i asked the wrong question
and the conversation was lost.

she was a Vassar girl
top notch, Ivy League
but if life follows its reputation
why'd she bother sayin "hi" to me

we're all second graders
with our first big crush
and we're all a little jaded
from our first forgotten touch
with or without permission
(trickin without submission)
whether heavily devised, implied or otherwise
we've all told a chick we're not like the other guys.
some of us even meant it
though coincidentally contradicted by some other lies

all of us have cheated
even if we never beat it
i fucked her with my eyes then it was mentally deleted...

i was sidetracked by a ghetto bird as a cop rolled by...

somebody's life was gettin worse than mine
somebody's gettin better
helicopter fees for five minutes cost cheddar

there's so much about me passer-byers don't know
if neither one of us reaches out
so many memories we WON"T KNOW...
_______________________________

every time you see me
I'm like a picture
in which you notice something
especially new
every time you look..

and i see more in my peripheral
than you do lookin at me
i listen to what cats say when they drift off and zone out...
________________________________

and one of you chicks left a hairpin on my night-stand
my dandelion was shocked to see the player in a white man
though we both know
she liked it or suspected it slightly
before the camel's toe was broke and she was too fed-up to write me
OH
NO
did i say...
"toe" i meant "back."
I keep catching good catfish
and throwin 'em back
to make room in an empty stomach
sometimes I'm tempted to plummit
gorgin on old gorillas
re-livin planets of the apes
my soul would rather sanctify a plate of wrathless grapes...
_____________________________________

the faller of Rome
can’t do it all on my own
but I feel I been called to lead you all like Saint Joan
you know my father is gone
so now I’m alone
so I pray to my God that I can lead through this song
You know I know that I’m wrong
now I need to move on
so I pray to my Heart I’ll get to sleep at Your door
I got my knees on the floor
yes I bleed from the Cross
yes I feed from the Force cuz I believe in my thoughts
I believe in my Force and I believe in your Words
I’m in need of the Lord so I don’t think with my Balls
so I give You my ALL
so I can make out Your Call
then whenever I fall, I keep my Faith in the Force...


people wanna blame it on naiveté
cuz cant nobody else out there levitate
ain’t got what it takes to perpetuate
7 days made so I’m gone for eight
can’t wait 3 days so I meditate
nothing else left but to pray ‘n wait…
lay in wait
You made my path straight
I have to have faith
if You ask I’ll castrate...
it’s all in Your hands
I’ll take my balls in my hands
take the knife of a Knight and sever all of my Glands
cuz You’re the King of the Jews, choose what is True
keep the Force of my God in my Heart and it’s You
I’m askin You what to do
and what You Tell me, I do
I just follow your rules
cuz what else could I do?
I’m askin You what to do
and what You Tell me, I do
You’re the King of the Jews
and nothing else is as True...
__________________________________________

Premonitions
I saw the word “religion” I realized I might get shot
I had another vision I got killed just like 2Pac
perhaps they didn’t see me, they never heard me speak
I’m as clever as a mothaf*cka back to raise the meek
turn the other cheek
used to follow Martin Luther, Jr. back when faith was weak
save the creek
and the paddle, my mystique
wouldn’t pay for you cuz you wouldn’t pray for me
but now I got this faith I put it in his hands
I listen to my father and fulfill all his demands
I seek out the meekest cat and fill his empty hands
I bless his tired heart. that’s why they sent me, Damn
any glands, any man, pullin bullets need to chill with those demands
these words make more sense to me twenty days later:
nothing makes me happier than twenty phased haters
recollect thoughts, then he paged Cleta
asked what the deal is—so many fake Beta’s
but they don’t comprehend cuz they don’t know what the date is
it’s judgement day, friend, I hope you hear it
flipped sides like the b*tches now you lost your spirit
now you words are wack, wigger, I don’t wanna hear it
cuz now you made it clear to me how real is ya lyrics
meditate I don’t need a mediator
never hesitate when you waving the .38er
wigga, better wait, destiny to fade haters
I’m’a levitate I was sent to make cadence
break beats and fake playaz
you ain’t really tight you just mistake-sayers
all you do is make mistakes f*ck a chick and vacate her
then you wanna kick it, call her up three days later
that ain’t even “love”, so I don’t know why you usin’ it
mislead the youth, you just fostering their foolishness
dropping a jewel, hope you following the truth of this
I put my faith in God, She’s the reason that I’m doin this
I didn’t choose it, or do nothing to earn it
blessed with this flame, I see the fame and burn it
I don’t need fame. why would I deserve it
can’t be vain, without His Name, I’m just worthless
so reckless
f*ck a gold necklace
so stressed this life is so precious
why would I waste it
high off the bases
caught in the cross lost in blank faces
bank statements are blank
still I say thankses
wait. what’s hate? we’ve been the same places
touched the same girls, sent the same Graces
down to waste snakes, displace their fake graces
look in the mirror everyone’s a racist
I’ll never understand why you cats can’t face it
I’m walkin 40 days just to reach the Oasis...
determined, I’m inspired by this flame
I don’t gotta play, cuz I’m higher than this game
so why would I try to be a trier when it’s lame
you need to show respect, call him Sire, that’s his name
I give it all to him, no desire for this fame
snap off the gaudy stuff with pliers to your chain
you got me hella hot I’m perspiring in vain
“passionate humility or five minute fame?”
I’m sorry, I apologize for my provisions
hope you make it out cuz the ghetto life is prison
speak to the meek—cocky, cowards don’t listen
I just thank God for my vision.
thankful I’m still living
still givin everything I got if you would only listen
But you don’t listen. that’s what the f*ck is buggin’ me
who else could allude to “the thug in me?”
blood, put your trust in me
momma, please tell me why these mothaf*ckas mugging me?
actin like they lovin me
see it in they eyes, they got policies to murder me
they don’t read my lyrics, think they know me cuz they heard of me
that’s love...
__________________________________

like I can't be mixed & be a conxious rapper
& still be a free lance autographer
still get love from my playas in my brooklyn
still be fresh & be good lookin
still get love when I go back 2 oakland
even if I'm not rappin bout crack smokin
mention billy holliday & then mention krayzie bone
shout to janis joplin & shout out to layzie bone
quote strength courage & wisdom
mention old homeboys without allways dissin 'em
how could 50 & dead prez be cats I feel
hearin india sing about god bein real
we're made of the same stuff the moon & stars are
bodies in the atlantic got salt-water tears like ours are...
I’m back. I owe it all to Jesus
please believe he’s the reason for my thesis
He’s just
the leader for me peoples
I let him take control of me, alleviate this evil
take note: the prelude and sequel
feel this, but first put on your seat belt
real shit
just to make you thieves melt
see this?
he levitated every time that he fell
so write a note, take a memo or an e-mail
machismo? I’ll burn you like a cheese-melt
I don’t need a black or a green belt to beat you
I’ll eat you so eat this
you want beef mothafucka? beef this!
[pause] in all seriousness
mothafucka jus peep this
the sweetest secret
the deepest, like swimming laps you can’t beat the Swedish
who cares who keeps a big penis
Beavis
I’m not the mothafucka to compete wit
treat this with the deepest WE-SPECT
walking Feet between the sea-crests
He’s Best
wait, I haven’t even washed your feet yet...
__________________________________

the crack epidemic, lacks black empathetics
the war on drugs and its stats are pathetic
the facts are imbedded and our tracks, we forget em
we can do more than acting, athletics,
faxing for medics—
we can BE the medics though our back’s up against it—
the wall, they want us all to fall, it’s a fact were on credit
uncredited youth; search our tracks—we’re aesthetic
they tried to ignore my raps when I said it
cuz they caught up in the fact I’m not "black"—I’m prophetic...

__________________________________

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ALL IS ONE.

ALL IS ONE.

ALL IS ONE.


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