Heartlands - Intellectual

Yeah, yeah, ooh yea yea

Yeah I am my dad’s son you can see it in my eyes

Never had a car, but got so much drive

From where paint don’t dry, you know 65

Holding down my block, as I touched the sky

I testify, I still prefer them taxi rides

Riding down the neighbourhoods gentrified

You see turning back the clock, it’s a frequent fight

Red light, green light we just tryna provide

Went from Kumon and parking coupons

To grey poupons, and groupons the line’s too long

Real talent’s in the mak ciks selling snacks sweating through their tudungs

But our palettes changed now it’s overpriced udon

I’m telling ya, this shit’s so scary yeah, selective xenia giving schizophrenia

We just tryna get out penny up the Hardaway, dolla sign

Before we fade away, count my blessings every time

[FAUXE]

Yes leaving that’s the hardest thing, but no more tears to cry

I know that life ain’t going to plan, don’t need no reasons why

All I ever know is...

I know that I can call you mine, and I’ll be fine

Home is where the heart lands in the heartlands

The more things seem to change, the more they stay the same

I paint a picture and pray that you remember my name

Word on the street is I lost self esteem in the

Boulevards of broken dreams

The strangerhood of silent screams

The corridors of forgotten queens

The new avenues a revenue stream

Damn

It’s a love hate relation

But for the days we done toiled

I stay loyal to the soil and the thing about

Rock bottom

Is you see the roots

And a couple of truths

And music in the interludes

Re-conceptualised my poverty

As part of me with poetry

The part of me with potency

The part of me they couldn’t see

I left my mark between palimpsest and failing tests

My secrets stay with stray cats in void decks

Who swore they’d never tell I was caught in a vortex

And that all I ever cashed were the reality checks

Yo how much you got man

Man I got $59 dollars

$59 dollars?

Yeah $59 dollars

I’mma feed the whole hood with this $59

You know it’s all good, I got $59

Yes I’m a local, ooh yeah

Just little more vocal ooh... ooh yeah

See it through my bifocals you grew here

They ain't ready for what I’m bout to do here

[FAUXE]

Home is where the heart lands in the heartlands

We do this for the forefathers, mothers and daughters

Those who built our homes from, across the borders

And the fallen sons of hit and runs, the globe trotters

Brought us brothers, now we in the melting pot, terracotta

Those who on that 12 hour shift, making ends meet

Those who work three jobs and they don’t know defeat

Back pain no Tiger Balm and still give up their seat

Those who can only kiss their sons when they asleep

Rain or shine, everyday grind, whether or not

Karang guni men, road sweepers, neighbourhood cops

Magnum opus for the hopeless if you hear this or not

I got my focus on the homeless but you see them not

So to all of my part-time baristas from here to Buona Vista

Three point swishers, compliment fishers, and Teh-C sippers

Those who’s screams are whispers, constant codeswitchers

We just full-time leasers, but you are all my teachers

Coffeeshop uncles on the T9 praying on the teletext

Hope your cancer’s benign, if you can't afford insurance yet

To palms that hit kompang, inspired I could be as thinly spread

And produce such music

And for how I never need to leave the hood to travel the world

With our hawker aunties serving every boy and girl

For the black and white faces of the neighbours I never knew

To the Melissa Chan’s of the world, shine on through…