In 1972 my mother was rushed from a James Brown concert
in order to give birth to me
my style is black hole
most niggas simply sound like earth to me
if hip hop were the moon i'd be the first to bleed
cyclical sacraments of self for all my peers to read
i recite the user night
??? the light for you to read by
have you floating on cloud nine without you realizing it's my mind's sky
and the ground on which you walk is the tounge with which i walk
i speak the seas, i root the trees of suburbia and new york
city streets can never claim me, that's why i never sound like you
all y'all niggas claim the streets as if paths through the woods aint true
you better walk the path, you better do the math
cuz your screw face will only make the buddah laugh
even if you know the lessons you don't know the half
but don't take it from me
son, take a bath
i can recite the grass on the hill and memorize the moon
i know the cloud forms of love by heart
and have brought tears to the eye of the storm
and my memory banks walk ??? forests and amazon river banks
and i scream them into sunsets that echo in earthquakes
shadows have been my spotlight as i monolouge the night
and dialouge with days
soliloquys of wind and breeze
applauded by sunrays
we put language in zoos to observe caged thought
and toss peanuts and p-funk at intellect
and motherfuckers think these are metaphors
i speak what i see
all words and worlds are metaphors of ME
my life was authored by the moon
footprints written in soil
the foutain pen of marshen men
novelling human toil
and yes, the soil speaks highly of me
but earth seeds root me poetry
and read forests forever t
