Body of Work

Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
Breaking rocks, serving my time
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
Working, but I still got so
Far to go
Aging at the edge of an ageless void
Too old to be young and too young to be old or
Young enough to be paranoid
I’m just flowing with the waves to stay afloat
Paddling on a board while praying for a boat
And some rope but I’ll settle for a mic cord
Center of the seesaw
Mamma told me I was very wealthy
Depending on your definition of rich and the way you see poor
I’m a father and still a son
On the middle of the road bopping like I got no place to go and
Someplace to come
Positive warns me of the deceptions of negative
Negative is trying to convince me to believe positive is a sedative
I ponder this and learn that they both are relative to life on earth
It sometimes feels like a repetitive burn
Ashes to ashes held captive in the urn
The ink embroidered
Black exploited
Crackers bought it
Crack was boiling
Niggas balling
Clientele calling
My SL fishtail like a dolphin
Instead of talking
Money’s corporate
Progress forward
Bunnies is gorgeous
Picture me: selling 20's on some '94 shit
Cutting dummies on porcelain
All my jewelry is frosted
Pigs is on corners more often
I’m feeling exhausted
I pray my sins don’t fall upon my offspring
Grown-man pants, wallets and ID’s
Health insurance policies
Wallabies and collard greens
Eating right
These the finer things in life
I see your ring in the light
Everything that bling ain’t nice
Niggas think that they nice
Scat-rapping in tights
That math isn’t right
This is rapper’s delight
Now I’m through packaging white
Rap with the passion of christ
Don’t get the facts half-right, yeah
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
Breaking rocks, serving my time
Breaking rocks out here on a chain gang
Working, but I still got so
Terribly far to go
Work my last slash and burn
Elephant hands, every callus earned
With hoe and machete, wet earth turn
Deep in the dirt, king of the worm
Hyenas circle, cackle blood curdle
Night dark as pitch
I’m up when the sky’s purple
Tapping ashes off clips
Left the shebeen with her and said, «do you dance quick?»
Now c’mon baby, tell me what’s the word
Green thumb, no metal fingers but I’m still living on special herbs
Callaloo and cassava
Big ganga aiming at impalas
They came at dusk, wearing balaclavas
You die today for the sins of your fathers
Is it really stealing when you robbing the robbers?
Is it actually fake when you already posing as impostors?
Shoot the boa, kill the farmer, crack that Cape lobster
Boiling in a Durban with poison, red dirt soiling
Black bodies toiling, mambas coiling
Overnight, that sweet milk spoiling