Steven

Thrillz 2014 Summer Mix

[Yes, yes. 
This is a topic that’s near and dear to my heart. 

I’m just try’n’a eat.]

[Hook]
I ain’t had dinner,
and I ain’t ate a thing all day.
Lord, forgive me…
Lord, forgive me…
the thing that I’m trying to say 
is I think I should eat alone.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

I can see you eyeing them, but get up off my tray, 
I got my drink, I got my food, and I would share them, but today I’m hungry,
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

[1]
We just went through the drive-thru, and when I asked you if you want food,
you replied all politely and you denied it like it was cool. 

I can feel the hunger. 
I could have guessed that you would just assume I would prob’ly wanna
share with you, but how dare you to, because I am not yo’ momma,
and I ain’t here to feed ya.
I’m sorry, but 
you’re shit out of luck, 
and I ain’t trying to tease ya,

but a second ago when we was in the car
you should have said, before I got my straw,
“You know what? I’m hungry. I should get a burger.”
And said it loud enough so I could’ve heard ya.
I’d hate for my dinner to turn to a murder.
You can’t get a piece, and you can’t get a third of
my food, and it’s rude and it’s kind of absurd, I
wish you would have knew and just made you a purchase.

I can feel the hunger. 
I could have guessed that you would just assume I would prob’ly wanna
share with you, but how dare you to, because I am not yo’ momma,
and I ain’t here to feed ya.
I’m sorry, but 
you’re shit out of luck, 
and I ain’t trying to tease ya.

[Hook]
I ain’t had dinner,
and I ain’t ate a thing all day.
Lord, forgive me…
Lord, forgive me…
the thing that I’m trying to say 
is I think I should eat alone.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

I can see you eyeing them, but get up off my tray, 
I got my drink, I got my food, and I would share them, but today I’m hungry,
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

[2]
I’m try’n’a keep myself calm 
and not just respond because I’m pissed off,
but fact is that shit is backwards; 
can’t warm it up, and you ain’t Kris Kross.

And I’m looking right past you.
You can get mad, but you can take that shit down to White Castle.

I know you got cash, and they make it fast, so it ain’t a hassle.
Get off yo’ ass and get you some food of your own to eat,
‘cause you ain’t getting none of mine [for real!]
You ain’t getting none of mine [for real!]

So spare me the pitiful look.
If you could cook you could make something that took
minimal time, but you can’t have none of mine.
I’m sorry, but no, not this time.
Burger King, Jack In The Box, Panda Wok—so many choices you got.

Get you a Happy Meal; ask for a box.
Get you a Happy Meal; ask for a box.

I can feel the hunger. 
I could have guessed that you would just assume I would prob’ly wanna
share with you, but how dare you to, because I am not yo’ momma,
and I ain’t here to feed ya.
I’m sorry, but 
you’re shit out of luck, 
and I ain’t trying to tease ya.

[Hook]
I ain’t had dinner,
and I ain’t ate a thing all day.
Lord, forgive me…
Lord, forgive me…
the thing that I’m trying to say 
is I think I should eat alone.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

I can see you eyeing them, but get up off my tray, 
I got my drink, I got my food, and I would share them, but today I’m hungry,
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

[3]
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
I ain’t try’n’a front, though.
I would prob’ly share, but I ain’t even had no lunch, so
thinkin’ you can prob’ly get a nugget out my ten piece,
an onion ring, or my hush puppy might be tempting, 
but I ain’t try’n’a share my entrée or dessert with you.
That Dutch Apple Pie is all mine, so stop staring, boo.

Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

Walk out that door, get in the car and take that drive. 
My New Year’s resolution is to not make this confusing,
if we’re in the drive-thru, then order something that’s for you, 
I’m saying, 
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.
Bitch, don’t steal my fries.

[I suppose…

now that you know better you can do better.

<Aha-ha>

It’s A. Dot…

That’s real talk….]

Bitch, Don't Steal My Fries

Intro [Yes, yes.

And so the journey begins.

You know how it feels, 
and I’m pretty sure you understand, too…

Yeah…

Ha!

Good looking out, Truth!

I finally made my move, 
and I figured I’d give you an update
on where I’m at right now.]

[MALCOLM X (as portrayed by Denzel Washington): 
“What would you call an educated Negro with a BA, or an MA, or a BS or a PhD?
I’ll tell you. You call him a Nigger! That’s what.”]


[1]
They say History is written by the victors,
so when you see my picture
in the book it’ll be consistent with my memory, 
my victories, my tendencies that tempered me and wintered me.
Cold, like those Chi City winds, ‘cause they’re blistering.

It’s in my DNA.
It’s in my bloodline.
What I do is much deeper than a punchline.

Where I’m from crime
is the norm.
Bullets hail—we stay calm amidst the storm.

I say ‘we’ because
when I say ‘me’ it’s us.
When I say ‘you’ it’s me, too, and vice versa.
It’s not much that needs to be proven in nice verses.
Write cursive—scribble out—print it like I meant it.
My people *closed* minded—
wear it if you fit it.
Rarely niggas get it. If they did it would be critically acclaimed.

But still the same A. Dot.
Still focused on my vision at a rate they not.

[Hook]
Still hoping for some healing from this place I got to,
and knowing niggas feel it when I say ‘I got you.’

is enough to keep me cool for the moment. 
School in the mornings,
teach in the evenings and be decent. 

No time to sleep in;
just create these
statements like a dissertation for a PhD

[“What would you call an educated Negro with a BA, or an MA, or a BS or a PhD?
I’ll tell you. You call him a Nigger! That’s what.”]

[2]
So, I finally made my move to the South, and as I’m moving about
I get a better understanding what my roots is about,
because my people from here, and though I can’t see ‘em from here
they’re reflected in my expressions
so you’re hearing ‘em clear.

They ask me, “Why would you leave?”
I ask ‘em, “How could I stay
and be limited on the shit I have the power to say?”

I’m thinking years in the future.
They’re thinking now and today,
like getting showered with flowers, 
not in the aisle at your grave.

It’s hard to make it make sense.
My momma proud as can be, 
but says, “I thought you left before to get a college degree?”
And as I tell her, “I did, but I’m going back in the summer.”
it kind of makes me wonder what the fuck I’ll do with another.

It’s nothing more than a question—rhetorical one, at that.
I mean, the fact is all of this shit started off with a rap.
And if I’m still doing that
I think I’m doing okay.
If it ain’t complimentary, then you ain’t got shit to say [to me].

[Hook]
Still hoping for some healing from this place I got to,
and knowing niggas feel it when I say ‘I got you.’

is enough to keep me cool for the moment. 
School in the mornings,
teach in the evenings and be decent. 

No time to sleep in;
just create these
statements like a dissertation for a PhD

[“What would you call an educated Negro with a BA, or an MA, or a BS or a PhD?
I’ll tell you. You call him a Nigger! That’s what.”]

[3]
Because you read it in a book,
thought that it was true;
saw it on the television—thought that it was you.
Self-fulfilling politics get taught to you at school.
Brolic ‘cause you brought with it a positively rude
mind state. I keep mine like a blind date:

I can be objective, 
I can be accepting, 
but I’d rather be selective.
If I’m not respected I’m the wrong nigga to f’ with.
If you saw my checklist
you knew this was next. It’s 
not a matter of simply rapping.
I really happen to have a strategy being enacted.

If you know, you know I ain’t afraid of spittin’
what I know is true ‘cause I’m south of the Mason-Dixon.
If I know the Truth it’s my duty to make revisions;
showing my peoples’ beauty and skewing what They envision.

I make my living off the things that I think.
Therefore, I am. 
I’ll give that a minute to sink [in].

[Hook]
Still hoping for some healing from this place I got to,
and knowing niggas feel it when I say ‘I got you.’

is enough to keep me cool for the moment. 
School in the mornings,
teach in the evenings and be decent. 

No time to sleep in;
just create these
statements like a dissertation for a PhD

[“What would you call an educated Negro with a BA, or an MA, or a BS or a PhD?
I’ll tell you. You call him a Nigger! That’s what.”]

Dissertation [Part 1: The Introduction] Prod By Truth

[1]
You don’t even know it, but you sleep, nigga. 
And when I say it, you assume it’s ‘cause I’m deep. It’s a
--easy way to keep the peace, nigga. 
Unless you restin’ in it. Sleep with a dog, wake with the fleas, 
take what you need. No. Take what you’re given, and live with it. 
Learn to love it. Never try to rise above it. Just fester and learn to covet it. 
Niggas never get enough of it. 
And then be sick of me discussing it. Fuck it. I understand it, man. 
Living is proof. 
But when I see it, then what the fuck is a nigga to do,
especially when you thinking that what you living is truth?
I mean, you claim to be a man—ten toes on the ground. 
A poser, a clown—man, do you know how you sound?
You take the tools of an oppressor, then dress ‘em a little better, 
express ‘em over a record, a metaphorical lesson. 
Twenty-five lighters on the dresser, yessir. 
Then you can prob’ly brighten up your lectures, jester. 
But you’d rather step and fetch it—and profess your ignorance, 
and you can look in the mirror tomorrow and live with it. 

Cash Rules Everything Around Me—CREAM, 
cause Dope Ruined Everything Around My DREAM.

Preme got knowledge.
Truth got knowledge.
Ed quit his job and went back to college. 

[2]
C-Style got knowledge and a plan. 
Jay still locked up, and I’m trying to manage a manifestation
of an indivisible nation, 
with diminishing patience, 
because I’m sick of us waitin, 
so the quicker we make it
the quicker we can progress. 
But niggas don’t wanna make, just wanna be living the best. 
Just want to count the most money, and hope we see that he got it, 
so when he talks about haters, then we’re the easiest topic, 
because his styles are the latest, and he can easily cop em, 
so all the ladies, they love him, they want to be in his pockets, 
that’s if you’re lettin’ him tell it—see, he’s a prophet for profit, 
and he’s a popular target for all the niggas that’s starvin’, 

so when it comes to cake, cake, cake, 
niggas only see what they can take, take, take, 
instead of living with the hate, hate, hate, 
maybe you should try to be awake, wake, wake.


[3]
They treat me like I’m not a rapper, 
I’m actually a poet. I know it’s a contradiction—I take it that they don’t know it’s
so similar. If I’m giving them words, and they on the beat, when I speak 
and they speak back, then we rappin’ but they’re so geeked that I’m not.
I don’t want to bearing no bad news. I choose to just nod 
like I approve, but I don’t. My God…
An arbitrary distinction is what I call it. 
I pardon the ignorance, but I’m bothered if you can live with it. 
Hardly the one to knock if you get it. Wanna define me?
I’m fine with it. Reading Nikki, ‘cause me and Miss Giovanni
be speaking the same language. I’m aiming to educate. 
Don’t mistake it for being passive—I’ll pass on the head crackin, 
but edifying’s an action I’m actively ascertaining, 
evaluating, arranging, defining, and then explaining, 
that learning about solutions is better than just complaining. 
The target at which I’m aiming is somewhere between your brain 
and your heart.
And I’m an artist. Not artificial a bit. Dog-eat-dog world, 
I’m starving up in this bitch. But rich,
if you consider I’m living chasing a dream, 
if they living chasing the CREAM, 
I’ll heat it up and be steam. I’m rising
above—just like the Phoenix—the flame’ll warm ya—
got a different mindstate, I’m cool like Arizona[’]s at night.
That might be a little out of your league. 
If you listen to rudimentary raps, then it’s not your speed, 
and I’m lapping you. Take a seat and just act like you get it, B….

Pound Cake [DREAMS]/Nikki Giovanni Music 3

"[Verse 1: Nas]
"Imagine smoking weed in the street without cops harassing.
Imagine going to court with no trial.
Lifestyle cruising. Blue behind my waters.
No welfare supporters, 
more conscious of the way we raise our daughters.

Days are shorter, nights are colder,
feeling like life is over. These snakes strike like a cobra.
The world's hot. My son got knocked. 
Evidently, it's elementary: 
they want us all gone eventually.

Trooping out of state for a plate—
knowledge.
If coke was cooked without the garbage 
we'd all have the top dollars.

Imagine everybody flashing 
fashion, designer clothes, 
lacing your clique up with diamond rolls.
Your peoples holding dough. No parole,
no rubbers—
going raw. Imagine law with no undercovers…

Just some thoughts for the mind.
I take a glimpse into time,
watch the blimp read “The World Is Mine!”

[Chorus: Lauryn Hill, Nas]
If I ruled the world…
[Imagine that.]

I'd free all my sons… 
[I love ‘em, love ‘em, baby.]

Black diamonds and pearls…
[Could it be? If you could be mine, we'd both shine.]

If I ruled the world…
[Still living for today, 
in these last days…]"

[Verse 2: A.D. Carson]
Yo, it’ll be paradise: Life, relaxing. 
Black, Latino, and Anglo Saxon—
Rainbow/PUSH with no Jesse Jackson. 
You’ll wonder how it ever happened,
that rappin’—just spittin’ flows—
no more entering through kitchen doors… 
Getting known for something other than the drama. 
Facing racism—even though we got Obama. 
We can still be honest, 
acknowledge and admonish. 
Take ‘em all to task, ‘cause a promise is a promise. 

Mommas would be mommas, 
and daddies would present. 
Children would be educated with practical lessons.
No arrested development; effort to empty prisons 
for better living—the type of place to raise kids in. 
Open they eyes to the lies History’s told foul. 
Teach ‘em the truth. Let ‘em know now, 
so we can grow how
nature intended—
reading spaces between the sentences.
Show ‘em they own image—let ‘em know that ain’t they nemesis.  

[Chorus: Lauryn Hill, Nas]
"If I ruled the world…
[Imagine that.]

I'd free all my sons… 
[I love ‘em, love ‘em, baby.]

Black diamonds and pearls…
[Could it be? If you could be mine, we'd both shine.]

If I ruled the world…
[Still living for today, 
in these last days and times.]

[Bridge: Lauryn Hill]
And then we’ll walk right up to the sun
hand-in-hand.
We’ll walk right up to the sun.
We won’t land.

We’ll walk right up to the sun
hand-in-hand.
We’ll walk right up to the sun.
We won’t land.

[Chorus: Lauryn Hill, Nas]
If I ruled the world…
[Imagine that.]

I'd free all my sons… 
[I love ‘em, love ‘em, baby.]

Black diamonds and pearls…
[Could it be? If you could be mine, we'd both shine.]

If I ruled the world…
[Still living for today, 
in these last days…]"


[Music: “Royals” by Lorde; produced by Joel Little
Lyrics by Nas, Lauryn Hill & A.D. Carson]"


Imagine This [Feat. Nas & Lauryn Hill]

“[James Baldwin]: 
“I’m going to improvise, like a writer, on some assumptions. 

And, though I feel a little uneasy in doing this—and saying this—nevertheless, 
what a writer is obliged, at some point, to realize 
is that he’s involved in a language 
which he has to 

change.”

[1]
He walked from just above rock bottom, to not stardom, 
but starting to understand my problems are probably all my own. 
And know, homie, I’m holding my own, 
owning my own plan like the man I was destined to be. 
A dot desires the finer. 
Denies the defining. 
He lies where the diamonds you find in the rough are stuffed—
No fucks given. If it’s just living then live yours. 
I’ll live mine, and we’ll cross courses in due time. 
If not, then no bother, I’m hardly at odds wit it, 
I chill—a homebody—attracted to odd women. 
Party wit’ gods—nope, not church, not a façade. 
I read books for fun, make students out of a squad.

It’s not a game, not the same shit you’re used to. 
I do it cause I find it suitable – and hope you will decide it’s beautiful. 
But never my aim is to make what you want how you want when you want it,
I make what I like when I write. I’m alright when it’s right, so I’m writing this here in this moment.

[Hook]
So, fuck what you want.
I write what I what I write.
And I’m cool. So what if you don’t.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.

So, fuck what you want.
I write what I what I write.
And I’m cool. So what if you don’t.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.

[2]
Every time they say, “I’m different” I hear ‘em but I don’t listen.
I’m near ‘em, but I don’t feel like we close to the same position. 
I spit like I’m on a mission to kill ‘em. A mercenary, I hit ‘em 
with verses dare ‘em to stand toe-to-toe wit’ me. 
I’m ready, but they ain’t really ‘bout that do it ‘cause they do it. 
They be doing what they thinking everybody else be doing. 
That’s stupid. 
I’m on that do what I be wanting to hear. 
So, if you like it, then that’s cool, ‘cause I got more of it here. 
And If you don’t, then that’s alright, you can move on to the rear. 
It ain’t my job to make you love it if you don’t, then it’s clear. 
So it’s back to the black hoodie, back to the black fitted, 
back to the basics. Hate it or take it. It’s black business. 

It’s not a game, not the same shit you’re used to. 
I do it cause I find it suitable – and hope you will decide it’s beautiful. 
But never my aim is to make what you want how you want when you want it,
I make what I like when I write. I’m alright when it’s right, so I’m writing this here in this moment.

[Hook]
So, fuck what you read.
I write what I what I write.
And I know, but fuck what she said.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.

Fuck what you read.
I write what I what I write.
And I know, but fuck what she said.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.


[3]
No shade, but this rap shit’s so played, and filled with actors, 
and scripts it’s like Hamlet, quite the cast of characters. 
I find it precarious [look it up]. 
I just want to do what I do, and I look at us 
and say, “Do it. 
No pretense. No pre-rinse. No pretend. No free days. No weekends.” 
Know he spends - notes and ends - with lonely friends, 
from the start until the dope beat ends. 
And while I’m at it, that’s Preme on the track, give him a hand for
keys, strings, kick drum, snare—it’s just a sample
of what I’m saying we do, and we got ample 
ammo. 
Joe, we cool like a pack of Camels.

It’s not a game, not the same shit you’re used to. 
I do it cause I find it suitable – and hope you will decide it’s beautiful. 
But never my aim is to make what you want how you want when you want it,
I make what I like when I write. I’m alright when it’s right, so I’m writing this here in this moment.
.
[Hook]
So, fuck what you think, 
I write what I what I write.
Do you. Drink what you drink.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.

Fuck what you think, 
I write what I what I write.
Do you. Drink what you drink.
I like what I like.
I’m impatient, and blatantly making my statements despite
any space of complacency. 
I write what I like.

[James Baldwin]: 
“I dropped into a silence 
in which I heard—for the first time really heard—and began to be able to try to deal with 
the beat 
of the language of the people who had produced me…

I was able to hear that music….”

[Additional vocals: Bad Dreams]” 


The Song I Should Have Written [Produced by Preme]

“[1]
I used to be the kind of guy who was kind of fly
kind of like the type who like to ride a bike despite the sun not shining bright.
I like to think it was perspective, but if I was perceptive
then I’d know it’s cause I was neglected. 
Mother f’n up the child support checks wit’
whatever she dealt with—card house falling on itself.
So my heart turns cold—poppa at the club, try'n'a get paid; 
diamonds a girl’s best friend; we call a spade by his name.
And I saying this emotionally, supposing if we 
had the Huxtable family, then that luxury could’ve damaged me more
than I am, and, see, I don’t believe in mistakes like
snake bites, brakes lights, nothing more than fate, right?
Crap shoot, shake dice. At least you took the gamble.
A man don’t got a chance if he just watching from the side. 
It’s easy to say, “He lost.” but harder to say “I tried.”
It’s simple to know the theory…let’s see it when it’s applied.
Supply and demand manhandles many, and anybody who’s tellin’ you diff’rent prob'ly
don’t understand economics. 
You see, that bike I was riding around on when it was cloudy, 
was really just to prepare me for folks who were stationary
and daring me to be diff’rent, I channeled it into this. It’s
medicinally elicited, written like a prescription, shit.

Take two listens and call me when you get it.
I’ll write you another one that’s more potent if you don’t feel it. But you will. 

[Hook]
And I meant it just for you...
For when you need some words that are words that you listen to, 
or when you need ‘em to give, just distribute…
these few…are some that I use to get me through. 

You see, I’m not the same guy that I used to be, 
and if I’m judged by the past, then I’ll be glad to say that 
I can look at yesterday’s sorrows and see tomorrow, 
borrow lessons I learned, and turn ‘em into my future.


[2]
I used to be the kind of dude who was kinda rude. 
Blind from booze. Try’n’a lose myself in myself. Got into 
the driver’s seat, and I can speak from experience when I tell ya,
it’s a real thin line in between success and failure.
Heaven and Hell are rarely seen and described for the living. 
Either you get on with it or be imprisoned by the constant thoughts, 
the kind of talk that make you doubt your purpose. 
They only see your surface. If you believe your worth is 
less or greater, let ‘em make you buy into it, there’s your fate, ‘cause
you are who determines who you will be. Not him or me.  

You see that car I was driving around in when I was drinking
was really to get me thinking how this could end in a blink. 
And when my eyes opened—the cries choking back the pain— 
how can I explain how that’s a gain, except for saying,

“Take two listens and call me when you get it.
I’ll write you another one that’s more potent if you don’t feel it. But you will.” 

[Hook]
And I meant it just for you…
For when you need some words that are words that you listen to, 
or when you need ‘em to give, just distribute…
these few…are some that I use to get me through. 

You see, I’m not the same guy that I used to be, 
and if I’m judged by the past, then I’ll be glad to say that 
I can look at yesterday’s sorrows and see tomorrow, 
borrow lessons I learned, and turn ‘em into my future.

[3]
I’m not so certain that I even got the choice to press Play. 

I found myself by myself, told myself this discovery was monumental, 
because there were no subjects similarly stenciled, 
just me, and as long as I used pencil to craft my story, 
I could go back and erase the parts I didn’t like; 
I could fill in the spaces where I didn’t write; 
I could shade the pages or dim the lights where I deemed appropriate

because I was in control. 

I didn’t start the game, 
didn’t have to blow in a cartridge
to un-glitch it. I just had to “get with it.”

No series of switches or configuration of keystrokes 
gave me hope of one day winning. 

And I’m not even certain that I chose to press Play. 

I found myself by myself, told myself this discovery was monumental, 
because there were no subjects similarly stenciled, 
just me, and as long as I used pencil to craft my story, 
I could go back and erase the parts I didn’t like; 
I could fill in the spaces where I didn’t write; 
I could shade the pages or dim the lights where I deemed appropriate

because 

I was in control.

[Hook]
And I meant it just for you…
For when you need some words that are words that you listen to, 
or when you need ‘em to give, just distribute…
these few…are some that I use to get me through. 

You see, I’m not the same guy that I used to be, 
and if I’m judged by the past, then I’ll be glad to say that 
I can look at yesterday’s sorrows and see tomorrow, 
borrow lessons I learned, and turn ‘em into my future.”


Take Two Listens [Produced by Preme]

"[1]
If I could put it in an open letter
and tattoo that on my skin so I won’t forget it, 
I’d probably say something cliché, like “Hope is better.”
Knowing’s never an excuse for not trying to go and get some more. 

And they say we got a lot of nerve
to ask for justice, as if it’s something not deserved. 
When he went to prison it was ‘cause he had a lot to serve. 
Living’s like a game of chicken, and the mission’s not to swerve. 

So you get it how you gotta. Living for today and not tomorrow 
ain’t as hard when you starving. 
I thank my lucky stars to be able to say, 
it’s kind of like a fixed ball game, and you gotta play.

So you won’t catch me judging how he tried to find a way.
To make it from the first to the third ain’t ever safe. 
But winning’s like an inning. The rules of running the base 
is three outs, AKA, KKK [and you’re struck].

[Hook]
Still looking forward to a greater day, 
but I can’t say enough phrases to take the pain away. 
And we still straining through changes and living with dangers. 
As plain as I can say it, I wonder if we will make it. 
I ain’t looking to shake what I’m facing. I’m trying to break it. 
And if there was an easier road, I wouldn’t take it. 

If I was you, I wouldn’t take it. 
But I’m just me, and I won’t take it. 

[2]
If I could tell you how I really feel, 
I’d tell you it’s a real cold world with an infinite chill. 

No need to say what you already know. 
And if you sleeping then the po-po is like NoDōz. 

No indictments, no rights when they violate you; 
repeated disrespect when you asking them why they hate you. 
Land of Brotherhood—if my Brother’s under a hood
and terrorizing me, then my family ain’t all that good. 

And if the hood’s a badge, and my brother’s shooting me down, 
and other family members see others looting the town, 
and blame it on the victim, then we gotta change the system 
for our daughters and our fathers and our mothers and our sisters. 

If I could tell you how I really feel: 
America, here and right now, feels like the Killing Fields,
because we’re fighting for rights, and nobody’s civil still. 
Sometimes it’s hard…believing this is really real. 

[Hook]
Still looking forward to a greater day, 
but I can’t say enough phrases to take the pain away. 
And we still straining through changes and living with dangers. 
As plain as I can say it, I wonder if we will make it. 
I ain’t looking to shake what I’m facing. I’m trying to break it. 
And if there was an easier road, I wouldn’t take it. 

If I was you, I wouldn’t take it. 
But I’m just me, and I won’t take it. 

Still looking forward to a greater day, 
but I can’t say enough phrases to take the pain away. 
And we still straining through changes and living with dangers. 
As plain as I can say it, I wonder if we will make it. 
I ain’t looking to shake what I’m facing. I’m trying to break it. 
And if there was an easier road, I wouldn’t take it. 

If I was you, I wouldn’t take it. 
But I’m just me, and I won’t take it." 


If I Could [Tell You] [Produced by Truth]

Tupac- How Do You Want It (Dynamique Remix)

Free DL: https://www.hive.co/l/qhw

<a href='https://theartistunion.com/tracks/4b12b6'>Download for free on The Artist Union</a>

Free Download

Power Trip (J. Cole Cover)

After a notable string of well received releases from Rhythm Section International, Label boss Bradley Zero recruits his South London comrade on RS007, Henry Wu, for an ode to SE15 with the new EP, 'Good Morning Pecknaam'.

A South East Londoner born and bred, Henry’s debut on Rhythm Section has been a long time coming and it seems that it was worth the wait as Henry presents 6 tracks of impeccably pleasing melodies. With previous releases on the likes of 22a and Alexander Nut’s Hotep... A back catalogue which has elevated him to becoming arguably one of the most hotly-tipped producers in the UK right now. The broken compositions and deep jazzy keys have earned him plaudits from scene veterans as well as peers, all keen to see what Henry will do next.

Buy 'Good Morning Peckham' : http://bit.ly/1Msi5zw

Listen on Youtube: http://bit.ly/1OKqopB
More info: http://bit.ly/1KtjnrP


Buy Now

Henry Wu - Good Morning Pecknaam (GPWW Premiere)

Buy on iTunes

Drama (Ft. Drake)

24 OF THE BEST ARTISTS IN CENTRAL, IL ALL ON 1 ALBUM HOSTED BY 217's WORKHORSE, UNCANNY, AND MIXED BY THE #1 DJ IN THE MIDWEST, DNY!!!!!!!

04 - A.D. Carson - Familiar

"Gossip" - Big Boi (feat. UGK & Big K.R.I.T.)
Produced By Big K.R.I.T.
Vicious Lies And Dangerous Rumors - The Album Drops November 13th