Awakening - CYNE

I am Adidas original, deep like a negro spiritual

Be at the podium, a dope individual

Speaking my mind line for line.

What’s happening?

It’s rerun, holding the gun, so «Aye, captain»

Listen up for the fisticuffs—it's Training Day

So light the match and watch the blaze, okay?

For real, son.

What’s the deal, hon?

Selling yourself short like a Porsche on hub caps

I’m all wax.

Listen up, you titty fuck

Is you ready for change?

Not nickels and dimes, punk

Sorry for being vulgar.

I’m not sober

Irritated at those that think the game is over

And still a lot to fight for since '04

Don’t take it in the back on your knees like coke whores

Stand up!

Break the chains and handcuffs

You ain’t a stupid bitch like them chicks in Bang Bus

This be a brand new day

A brave new world so see through the haze

This be the season of the media craze

Listen up, become a audio slave

Into a momentary trance, we ain’t sleeping—we are

Well awake and quite in tune with the rhythm—I am

The rebel, the treble, the voice, the noise, and this is

The moment of rhyme, the time to CYNE, and I am

Kinda like water—silent journey so fluid

Into another world.

Stay mute, but yet fluid, moving

Forth.

Speak, serving as a paradigm

Into a life, I lead a lifestyle I’m

Maybe one in a million.

I’m one of four children

Defying the odds—I'm out building

Big blocks on the pavement for days

When it rains and my luck run out, I can’t pay rent

I start gazing at stars—it's amazing

How everything’s aligned.

Sometimes, I spend days in

Like «Fuck going out.»

We’re art.

I’m showing Clyde

Dropped out of school, but cool—never showing doubt

Coverage under fire.

Most men are liars

They never sold crack or no dope suppliers

I don’t need to sell that in my rhyme, though

Crack kill black male quick or he die slow

Or locked in a cell with plans, but can’t prevail

It’s summertime and damn, the block is hot as hell

But evolution came, awakening the pain

Peace, love, and happiness is strange when they feel the same

I am the redeemer, rejuvenating self in the speaker

So follow the leader.

I got Growing Pains like Ben Seaver

So feed the meter—the levels overshadow believers

Not overly meager.

My head dreadlocks—nappy receivers

Receive reasoning, salt-in-the-wound seasoning

Getting up in the morning and hoping that you believe in me

Awakening, making me focus from the

See, maybe we just need to get up to make a scene

Into a momentary trance, we ain’t sleeping—we are

Well awake and quite in tune with the rhythm—I am

The rebel, the treble, the voice, the knowise, and this is

The moment of rhyme, the time to CYNE, and I am