1. |
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Two Hundred Dollar trainers mean
your feet don't grasp the grasses green
how will you feel the earth between your toes
or heavens nose
from which you mask your musk; your hoodie
hiding heart and soul
retention of intention
held inside imperfect black
and reason tantamount to treason
in this green and pleasant land
Our Nubian kings and queens inherit armour
and a chance to carve a bread and butter lifestyle
thus designed to fall face down
give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespass
as we stack it with the Lurpack because
something is BUTTERS in the state of Denmark
when its princess can make more drama with Obama at
Mandela's final salutation to a generation that it
too scared to shake its spears
- but happy to study Shakespeare? Are
Wordsworth's words worth ore than mine? is my
free speech second to Naomi Kleins?
I'm hustling to make this stand I'm not
trying to be a next Russel Brand if the
only think I can bank in is more porn pictures of Tyra Banks
acting as "America's Next Best Second Class Model Citizen"
What does it mean for you for me to be black in Britain then? If
everything I'm trying to feel is from the most high ethereal and
all your trying to do is sell me more and more "White Material" then
Imperial acuisitin is your mission but you're missing out
on how your lust for riches got your liver filling full of gout you
fat bellied bankers in Bankgok, buying teenage brides
and Selling Northern Rock Lock Stock and Barrell; never tried
to save the sub-prime situation; you were never concerned
with the salvation of this plantation situation
We're not the digital slaves that Chuck D feared; it's clear
for all that care to see we are the overseers
never to complain or change because we got a chance
to make beats for crackers to get hit with, and jive and dance
Our Nubian kings and queens inherit armour
and a chance to carve a bread and butter lifestyle
thus designed to fall face down
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2. |
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You're looking at a man barely alive; a man
told so many lies his heart stopped: His third eye
locked down , blinded to the knowledge of self that brings
wealth to they world that THEY say is developing
Dollars made six milion men lobotomised;
don't even use the right side of their brains: they write
legalese like a life sentence on parole for
the children of the Ghetto; the laws are breaking them
We have the power to regain and rebuild we didn't
give away the chance to dance and be free again:
We know how to make it better; it's just another
battle in the war NEVER give up on the cause when we
know our POWER
we can make it better. we can be stronger, we can learn faster
we can make it better for these rappers
dissing other rappers chatting bout who's crapper
throw way lyrics like sweet wrappers
while the streets fill with rappers strapping
guns to their bodies, popping caps where it used to be
baseball caps and body popping; all that mattered was Black Vinyl
You wont fight back and bite the hand that feeds?
Even when the hand that feeds
hands out slaps until your face bleeds?
I know I MUST be sounding like a broken record;
I'll keep saying the same until I see a change
One giant leap for mankind to BE kind
on small step is the first step to find
when we find our POWER
We can make it better. we can be stronger, we can learn faster
Two thirds genocide; one quarter refugee
three fifths colonial privileged nationality
one drop son of a racist who placed his trust
in gentrification making seperation between us and
half the time I've got half a mind to give up
on statistics turning whole communities into factions;
but when I hear that snare, it kicks starts this chain reaction
bass lines bigger than the bottom of the biggest fraction
chakras stacked up and geared up and opened up
to consciousness compounding sounds of satisfaction but
science won't keep you happy till you know the maths son -
go get your calculator; I'll put this record back on
you're half blind, you don't need bionic vision
to see we've got a greater mission than a life in prison
we've all fallen from a great height, crash landed
but this technology can build a better man
when we know our POWER
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3. |
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Lies
Truth
And what lies in between
Things aren't always what they seem
Read between
the lines and you will find
what they don't want you to see
This is how
stories are told
and rearranged
This is how
history unfolds
to be
what you
needed it to be
who needs truth
when we'd rather make believe?
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4. |
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5. |
Journey Of Love
04:02
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6. |
Naima reloaded
03:37
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I
see
you
walking down my veins
dancing in my heart
running in the field of my stomach
disturbing dead butterflies; raising them from the dead
I feel you in the pit of my stomach
I feel you running down my spine
because you are...
You are.
I smell that you
have settled in the pores of my skin
you must be having the time of your life
running around my everything, from the tips of my toes
to the kink in my hair
...because you are.
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7. |
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A world
where our children
can hold hands and sing
and go to the playground
and play on the swing
and know not of
race, or of class or of skin
these are a few of my favourite things
Men free to worship
Any god that they choose; a chance
to grow up without being abused
my favourite ream is a dream shared by few
I'll keep on dreaming my dreams will come true
Poor and hungry
warring countries
makes me feel so sad
I try to remember
my favourite things
and then I don't feel so bad
A chance for the hungry
to grow food of their own
work where the workers
don't get worked to the bone
A shoulder to cry on; a place to call home
My favourite wishes: Do I wish them alone?
Life before profits, wants after needs
men who would follow their good words with good deeds; in
my favourite harvest there's no room for greed:
We all reap the fruit if we all sow the seeds
please yourself first, second nature
that's not how it should be
the needs of the many outweigh those of the few;
those who want all the world for free
squeeze the poor so the rich get more so
when will people see
to be poor is a crime; half the worlds serving time
sentenced to an eternity
Dream of a time
when money doesn't make you king
all round the world
scales of justice will ring
pile on the money, but the balance won't swing
make justice free like a bird on the wing
I have a dream that the future may bring
an end to oppression so that people can sing like
Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King
they both dreamt the dream of my favourite things
Go to Hell, go to heaven
wonder where they might be
heaven and hell are both here on this earth, but
some find it hard to see
in the darkness that surrounds us
some may give up the fight
but if I can remember my favourite things
Everything's gonna be alright
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8. |
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Black like a bottle of Jack
strong like bourbon, but
never stereotypical mainstream, ghetto or urban, cos
lemme tell you something jack , "urban" ain't "black"
if "Urban"'s got its money up in a Swiss bank drinking
French Brandy driving German cars buying
Italian suits on an American Express card
we say ghetto like it's something to aspire to
I'm sorry people but my sights are set higher than
sipping Cris, or taking the piss with someone's baby daughter
or bling bling, or black on black manslaughter
man we oughtta be ashamed 'cause its a pitiful sight
we built Pyramids, now we can run a club night?
I disagree and there's more to me than this
don't call me urban or ghetto, 'cause to me its a dis
when you're saying that's "black" your taking the piss
take it back, when you say my name say it loud
black is the new black, and I'm black and I'm
proud of this life, the jazz life,
the music endures through all the pain and strife
its irrepressible; its the voice of a nation of
one two three four five generations of
jazz from Buddy Bolden to Kenny G the force
flows and binds together the jazz galaxy
the universal language of the people
a million stars shine bright their brilliance paves the way for
interstellar travel made possible; the music of jazz
creates its own space and time and your mind is blown
by the speed of conversation, the melodies
travel warp speed into a next generation
their education handed to them on a platter of
12" Vinyl teaching lessons that really matter
listen and earn from the original jazz cats in action
-or if you crave social interaction-
catch the vibe of a live gig; it's even phatter
but be prepared to have your misconceptions shattered
that'll be the end of this rhyme, the end of my time
I hope in some little way that this message has
given you a better understanding of the music
the music is the magic,
the magical J is for Jazz
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9. |
Get Out! Resurrection
05:20
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I'm getting tired of your lies
the way you use big talk to mesmerise
I despise the way you always promise things you can't substantiate
but its too late
now I see
its clear to me
that you can't appreciate me
or the things I've done for us so to my mind
there can be no doubt
baby you don't love me
Get Out
I've had enough; I can't take no more,
somewhere you forgot I'm not your whore
I'm out the door
to where the grass is greener
somewhere where the atmosphere is cleaner
somewhere where the atmosphere is cleaner yeah
I don't mean to burst your bubble
but I don't really care at all
so good bye baby
Get Out
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Vidal Montgomery London, UK
Four Point Five is a collection of forty five word works by bassplayer, composer and poet Vidal Montgomery, accompanying The Mixtape "Out"
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