[Luck One]
When I first heard this beat, I was sittin in my car in the Central District, on
Union…on top of hill, just lookin at the skyline of the city and it reminded me of
When I first started rhyming, and I’m just writin the rhyme and lookin at the skyline
And I felt like I could capture the whole city and I could put the whole city on the
Page…
Chorus:
(And the streets need)
More rappers come outta the slums
That’s talking about more than bustin they guns
(And the streets need)
Less rappers comin out of the burbs
That’s criticizing how we hustlin birds
(And the streets need)
Real music, more rhyming
Ill infrastructures, more grindin
Real leaders that’s convicted in will
And givin em…(the real)
If these sidewalks could talk we would be in conversation for ages
I chronicle it's visions meticulous in my pages
I'd follow in tradition and listen as it displays it's
Witticism for fools, and cynicism for sages
A duplicate, ain't nothing new happening so we used to it
And ain't no American dream so who's chasing its uselessness
I’m living for the moment that dissipates in elusiveness
And tryna keep productive and righteous minded like humanists
We in the city like pollution is
Modern Confucianist shrinking our egos and bearing a crucifix
It's awkwards, like tryna tuck a mausberg
How our dialect is as disconnected as crosswords
And language spoken is a living thing
Driven like women with children visiting prisoners that's in the bing
I'm fighting demons and righteous thoughts with enlightenment
And tapping Harriet when I'm writing it
Just to heighten it
[Hook]
Skylines, drifting for days kids not addicted to haze
Pigs in position for love of the people, and not for pay
True education for shorties that's heavy letting the metal blast
A sentiment of death to the misdirecting oppressor class
Better beats, jobs, religion and mediums/
For seeking out God, that'll keep us buoyant like helium
Less of the tedium, check investments for profit shares
Lessons stressing the breadth of our flesh, and how it got us where
And how we not aware of how the streets is a crucible for perfection we oughta
Cherish and gotta share
Open ears, closed fists, deep creeds
Listen as I'm spitting it cause this is what the streets need
A restoration for names, lesser patience for gangs
End to the gentrification madness and pressure for change
We only living once, might as well live it up
Instead of using what's lost as a measure for change