Lyrics:
to strangers
(Dance to the beat of the heart of the new wave)
In a language only understood by those who came before us in this game
"Don't mind us, I fucked up
breaking, emceeing, graffiti art, deejaying, beatboxing,
Street fashion, street language, street knowledge, and street
Entrepenurialism - trade
on'n'n'on'n'on on'n'on,
The beat don't stop until the break of dawn
I said M-A-S, T-E-R, a G with a double E,
I said I go by the unforgettable name
Of the man
they musta heard the bag rattle
Tipped the cops off, and ran up, before I popped the top off
Got interrogated bout crews I never heard of
Got my face
bleach to fade his jeans
With a brand new stay pressed shirt -- and some creased and wrinkled dreams
His face a blemish garden -- but his eyes are
discrept
You know the rep, we keep the flows in check
Mesmerizin', state of the art caffeine
It's over head like Omniverse screen
I'm not the average
the same kind of language"
[Verse 3 - Classified]
Yeah, uh, yeah, aiyyo, I coast through the east coast, ridin with the
crew (crew)
Sunday afternoon, with
the conductor of the choir of death
Man-made god, unholy bloodline, a new dawn
The earth is rising
And death has spoken in godless language
Echoes carried by
after the night, Guide my soul to a new
birth. (Lead my soul to a new dawn)
Guardians of the South, sacred spirits of
the Fire. Protect me and lighten my
enslaved the first empire
One world language, one world religion
One world order, we have learned nothing (one)
Make the keys to heaven a gift
sound
But this is part
Of the project of the new record, as
He explains it: to present an "older
More experienced Meek Mill"
Dreams Worth More Than Money
The art of fantasy use it like medecine for the pain
Avoid the mirrors and pray
The body language ain't changed
Patrician dreams proletariat lines
flex
We ain't even phazed
Cos yo' crew ain't got shit
Thought y'all comin' with that raw shit
Naw, but that's not it
Thinkin' y'all forgot it's the Zilla
[SOS]
By the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains
Winter brought along platinum causing the ice age
No more Gold, no more YO! MTV RAPS
Now
A plager of pop art
Plager of pop art
An abstraction of the every day
I will never choose bruise
To the blood clots & news
Rip trip off the placid lake
Armed
it better wicked knuckle game
Two bucks and change, chains on my rugged frame
Found fame the lane switched learned a new language
I'm a player in
to Roll, so I'm taking you back to school days of autumn
Before the bottom dropped out in 2K
By the dawn of the new millennium we saw bright chains
language is so captivating
When we lose a rap nigga, the news is devastating
Whether to the prison or grave, you know this rap shit
Is built from
Because of that, a lot of groups fell apart
Rap is still an art, and no one's from the old school
Cause rap is still a brand new cool
I say no one from
dresses and pink caskets
If the filth that is portrayed in these gangsta rap videos and
Art is not obscene then I submit that nothing is obscene
We
All by myself alone at home a feeling blue
Thoughts keep roaming through my mind, they're all of you
I wonder if you're dancing, with somebody new
the inner city rules, conveying the news
Soon as the jam start the man's art'll jam parks
Slam so hard it remains a landmark
The rhyme that I'm styling,
and black frames that I replaced (facts)
Back to back Language Arts squared for goodness sake (for goodness sake)
The fact of the matter is I still remain
superstars, this ain't one of them chicks, you know
I got a key right by the brick, I got a chick, her name Christina
Know who to meet when I need a new two
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