Arts The Beatdoctor - West 37th Scenario lyrics

[Verse 1: Esé Michael the Mighty Maverick] Do not stand before my grave and weep Because I am not there And I do not sleep Words of the wise & deceased that I chose to keep Think steep while my hands were the color of vermilion Sending pure anthrax in my emails Slaying minds with the details And I envisioned enlightenment tenfold with concise precision Telling these tales, did our streets fail? sh**, they raised me My mind's all entwined, I need to break free Maybe I'm naive, bruises to my knees only two or three Seen the seven seas cause we don't live in Pangea Our white friends don't see us From a small place where we don't see much, but they freed us, pray to Jesus more times than a God could count Mercy mercy I'm traversing, all my thoughts to conversing I was little on the ave The ave was little on Map Do you feel me? Do not try to heal, strive to hear me Or simply learn the f**ing black vernacular Yeah I'm active, sure, close to magic pure rage in traffic I just hope I pa** it soon There's no teachers to these life lessons Hindsight stressing, I'm not lessened by life's blessings And if the times destined, then I know I can catch them The world in a toss up or we just lost touch, and we lost us This a lost art, I think it needs a touch-up and I have the just brush West thirty-seventh, scenario: [Hook] [Verse 2: Ness] [Hook] [Verse 3: Esé Michael the Mighty Maverick] They made it so that we could never be good enough Never be more than the little piece of hood in us Never seen sceneries the opposite of looking such All I want is better days, all I crave is happiness There's none of that, so pick a side now; brother against brother There's only "shoot that n***a dead", no loving one another There's only blood stains in the summer, only n***as in the gutters Got your mother, brothers, others huddled into smaller numbers And dysfunction ain't no curse, that sh** is taught, in turn, it's learned But when we see our brothers down we chant that's what that n***a earned We chant "squad up, stay off my turf" Where colorblindness gets you murked Between the lines is where I learned to teach my people with a verse Can you forgive me though? For craving something more? A conscious vibe contrast of the ignorant flows Change of scenario so with this pen I wrote I'm on a quest to share this narrative with lively prose, but y'all don't feel me though Are all you fools complacent? Do all you make the same sh**? Is all you do is act a fool, like, on your day-to-day sh**? Kick flows so insane the brain has no vacation while they contemplate on every word that I say And if an Esé can convey these immaculate phrases If a brother called for brotherhood, would you spit in his face? And he's rhyming on pace, said his timings on great That's my everyday I'm deity in your face huh Can y'all find my concern in all the dissonance Our people famished that's why I'm rapping ecstatic with patterns so lavish Y'all trapping n***as music is tragic I had to ship my sh** from Utrecht and Saint Petersburg don't take offense If I could stop all of the hurt in one night And spread the knowledge, souls revived just when I spit on the mic But while I'm spitting, you allowing the knowledge to sync? Drink more water, few are quenched yet you poor down the sink Wasteful needy please believe me, we're not far from the brink To free my mind and drop the rhymes to let y'all know what I think f** a hot sixteen, that's not my scene, y'all playing the rook A f** emcee can't f**ing rhyme like me don't get your sh** took Black music whack, either learn to rap, or call it kaputt! And if n***as could even read I would have written the book [Outro: Relly Snow]