of shaolin before you pluck the strings
 of my violin, my life is orchestrated, like
 london symphony, concentrated. Niggas waited
 and waited. i'm birthday wistles, belated.
 blow out the candles, i wait in the
 darkness, like a vandal. the silloutte
 of set in this mirror on the mantle.
 fire place is in the heart. water
 places the art 'round the island of
 desiring wheremost primitives stalk
 sacrificing their daughters, but these
 primordial waters carry a feminine
 agenda that no man ever taught us.
 true they captured and caught us,
 transported, sold us, and bought us. they
 constituted and lawed us, distorted truths
 that they taught us. we rebelled, then
 fought us. we conformed, then
 they formed us. Now these niggas rhyming
 'bout material possessions. My adidas are
 three years old, like my daughter, niggas
 rhyme 'bout alize and need to rhyme about
 water. but out of chaos comes order
 out of chaos comes order out of chaos comes
 order....Fake niggas run for the border
 LA LA LA LA LA LALA LA LALA LA LA
 LA LA LA LA
 in a past life i was a woodcarver's knife
 the sharpened blade of a woodcutter
 the eldest son of the chief's brother:
 maker of drums. we scraped the
 inside of goat hides to seek the hollows
 where sound resides, offering the parts
 we did not use to invoke the muse.
 music of the ghettos, the cosmos,
 the negroes, the necros: overcomers
 of death, disciples of breath. dissection
 of drumbeats like Osirus by Seth.
 breakbeats into fourteen pieces.
 dissembled chaos, organized noise.
 a patchwork of heartbeats to ressurect
 true b-boys. be men let's mend
 the broken heart of Isis. age of
 aquarius. mother nature is furious
 while you rhyme about being hardcore be
 heartcore. what is it that we do art for?
 metaphor. metasin. it's an age of
 healing. why not rhyme about what you're
 feeling? or not be felt. deal w/ the cards
 you're dealt. calling tarot readers and
 sparrow feeders to cancel the
 apocalypse....metaphorically speaking
 (meta: greek for beyond