Search results for 'Intergrated Language Arts Reading'

You know you can’t choose your descendants
Unless you pass the test of reading the remnants of

Aristocratic art rap bloodline
So your flatline is

what you type
I don’t need the word of God
To tell you it’s art

Who are you?
(Who am I?)
Vacant language
(Vacant language)
Reading her broken words

Reading your body language, I'm peeping your gestures
No one in this party doing something that impressed ya
Tension, let it build, then I start

over disaster like Cassidy
Rose so high, I now rap from the stratus
You can find my whole art in heaven; The Lord's Prayer
Time for the scale to get it

incarcerated
No black and whites where I'm from but I felt segregated
Thanks to the language I spoke I wasn't integrated

I know you can relate, in your own way

9 Elements

KRS-One

Kristyles

2003

or breakdancing
Rally be-boying, freestyle or streetdancin'
Two : MC'ing or rap
Divine speech what I'm doing right now no act
Three: graffiti art or burning

of gettin' money
Language of stayin' dangerous
Shawty could of been a painting the way her body be shaping
Cause it's a work of art, admire it with amazement

Finds, wall scribes, all kinds arts
Of human signage, along paths Eventually  entered into the lyrical Cast, means of  freestyle  Unrehearsed unwritten

I read, my art is starting to bleed and receding
It's alive
Even though I'm woke up, this so sucks
How 'bout my throat cut

Just a thought,

insisted upon reading it unabridged just to be safe
And I read it with the thickness and the swiftness of molasses
I had 50/20 vision but I didn't have my

language
I'm sittin' where the pain lives
Tried to run but the train showed up late
Late
Like always

There's no time
Like the present
Aye
No gift
Aye
Like

by surprise the end of your life it came from 
Insecure about my art you pushed me to make some 
Never gonna forget the memories you make of 
You

Blue School

Blue Scholars

Blue Scholars

Microphone check, microphone check

I'm a blue scholar worker studying the art of labor to create
Flavor to relate to listeners, alleviate

Do do do, do do do

Sometimes life ain't perfect
Get some money then you lose it
Get a new whip get it stolen 
Get some art painted then break it

see how quickly things go from haunted to unwanted, 
you ask
why all the histeria about reading certain criteria
it's simple really.
it pretty much

that much
But round here there was Latin kings, crips and bloods 
I was the shy one in class I would sit and just people watch
I started reading... body

got a lotta fees
Se la vis
Mix the language up
You know I got the steez
Never had me a chauffeur and shit
But shit I got the heat
If you ain't never

pitiless

They say art mimics reality guess I was in the reverse
I'm reading books bout romance and friendship somehow to reimburse
My emotional immaturity

asleep, I would hear him recite 
from the Arabic language  it sounded beautiful
but I couldn't understand it.
Cos we only spoke Bahasa and English in our

going on
In the art of war and in
One of his innumerable campaigns
He expressed the words that could serve as
The motto for all fearless types

In

the power of the tongue swift sharp as sword/be careful cause the karma could be the weapon that's formed /
I'm empowering the mind while reading the art

these strokes and now she giving me praises
They always say, "Kermode Zay you just can't miss"
Every verse a piece of art, here you should frame this
Up

it is to be finally living 
I cannot believe it I swear

7am I'm reading 'bout what Jesus 'bout
'Bout Jesus' bout with the wicked ones who snuffed

Science, History,
Reading, Language,
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and Funky Music!
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