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lirik lagu illmac – raising the bar (#4)

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i’m transforming like autobots
the goat at my worst, like air jordan the rare moment his shot was blocked
pen with unleaded in it, head with a hemi in it
they go together; henny and a spliff, envy and a critic
jealousy and b-tches, enemies’ forgiveness
auction off the business, that means anyone can get it
let me be specific
i tippy-toe between friends and foes, those who need incentive just to live the code
guess we got different goals, switch approaches
felt a pain in my chest, my vision froze, then consulted with the angel of death under mistletoe
life’s a b-tch, but while you b-tch and moan, i middle finger f-ck her, bet that b-tch’ll moan
switch positions, pick and roll
this redemption, time and sp-ce, life’s the intersection
god is love, love is light, ego’s misdirection
so what you staring at, huh, what you staring at?
this chip on my shoulder weighs a ton, go ‘head n carry that
yeah, the truth is ugly homie, i’m aware of that
that’s why i only look at myself in fear that the mirror cracks
take you to the era where the arawaks are buried at
breath life in their lungs, and give ’em their bows and arrows back
i’m done with mirrors like aerosmith
will of a king, heart of peasant, mind of a heretic
i’ll be forgotten and buried with native american heritage
embarr-ssment, barricaded in arrogance
bearin’ a burden and barely make a dent like my parents did
lose ’em all chasing the carrot
get there and have no one to share it with
life isn’t fair and it’s perilous, i’m bearin’ witness
unless you wearing this pair of kicks dead the comparisons ‘uh perish with ’em
i been scheming on some ends
feeling underestimated, willie beaman off the bench
what i get from you’s returned, how i treat you all depends
gotta see me at my worst to receive me at my best
yeah, i’m tryna go from this metro to a testarossa
i had dreams of getting over, found the edge was closer
cut the gr-ss for snakes, that blade behead a vulture
barrel smoking, shoot an angel off the devil’s shoulder
the bread that you work for has a guilty stench
what’s clean money? you either dirt poor or filthy rich
so don’t ask about wars we can’t afford to be in
’til flint got water i can’t be bothered with the north koreans
that’s like giving up your rights to -ssure your freedom
or deporting people who were here before the europeans
like taking land with smallpox as an offering
moving natives to reservations, then calling ’em “sovereign”
no calling me conscious, dawg, this is common sense
we on the same side of the fence like a con and a lawman
chanting mantras with brahma, bonding with elijah muhammad
seen past lives and pallbearers hauling my coffin
learned my soul was the ghost, and that my body was haunted
but before my body was gone, my thoughts had long been departed
took ayahuasca with shamans, talked to god in the garden
read upanishads with prabhupada, he offered me knowledge
i don’t have a soul, i have a body
’cause i am a soul, that has a body
that’s life embodied on earth
if the beat has some soul, soon as the sample load i catch a body
then add it to my body of work
let’s work


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