12 - Calling Spades

"[1] If I end where I started, I bet you gone know the difference This is living, not merely existing—bars without the prisons Far beyond the glimmer of prisms reflecting light— My father was so dark that I’m bright—sun of the night And you’re loony to think the tunes you’re confusing With you consuming the fruit of the tree of knowledge Are any truer to you if you got it. See, if I start where I finish You’ll see the difference in presentation, delivery, understanding and memory Remember, if you can see the forest and the leaves The branches and the trees, advance and then recede Then maybe you can see there’s an art to the game of war Start just a day before, and end with a 24 to relax No basketball metaphor, but even still If your Achilles Heel is revealed and you need to heal Nobody wants to hear that you’re resting to get better They’re more or less on quest to investigate your succession [Hook] If you call what you do rap—I say you shouldn’t do that If you insist, then I suggest that you do this: Call what I do something that’s the total opposite ‘Cause we don’t do the same thing, bruh—that’s kind of obvious I say there’s room for us both—but who am I? And people seem to be cool with confusing you and I But I’m not And I’m aware how the moves in the game are played But how ‘bout we just call a spade a spade [2] To this new generation of “emcees,” On knees, giving new definition to succeed Take this as a warning, and take pause Take a look in the mirror, witness what you caused Identity crisis, pretending to like what I don’t Is what I don’t do. I’m really polite When it comes to writing nice shit My pen’s on the night shift, bar hopping Trying to scribble some lines that are jaw dropping I often fail to engage in the conversations occurring That start with “back in the days.” I’m more concerned with the current But currently, If I’m looking for flow, then I guess I oughta Play my own shit, or find a body of water That’s deep, ‘cause it’s really the way I feel But it’s also kind of shallow. I understand the appeal Of appearing to be persnickety, flipping, lickety-split And then splitting some dividends I guess this is where it ends and begins [Hook] [3] I call a spade by it’s name. No faking jacks, or no bluffing The heart of a king that’s beating when speaking over percussion Conducted by Preme—call it a premium pre-production Cause this is teaching, and THE main feature will be discussion So, see, mane: Let me explain just how I does it You do it how you can. I do; however you doesn’t. No man Woman, child, could a style ever create—to see A Dot. Stop it if you trying. No lying. No standing near him either He’s a monster breathing Fire. When I sigh, it’s sayonara to ya—see ya I applaud ya’, patna, but this part of writing speeches For me is like comparing snuff to art inspired features I murder beats just to bring ‘em back to life and let you witness Listen, be convinced that it’s a sickness I’m afflicted with The sickest shit you ever want to say you ever saw And you can say you saw it from the start." [Hook]