Intro - Who Am I?

Who am I? Are you sure you want to know About this young black male from the city of snow? From suburbia, not ghettos full of pimps and hoes But smiling faces, hard workers, little kids catchin’ colds Where mommys were heroines and daddys were heroes Who taught their sons like samurai to live by their code The family was everything; But now the glass ain’t even half full, it’s emptying But I remember the teachings, “Put your mind to it, and you can do anything…” So someone, please tell me, why are we settling For mediocrity, when we’re descended from kings From empires of rulers decorated with rings Whose wives never ever had to worry about a thing? Who am I? I’m the kid to rock your reasoning When people come to the cook the beef, I come with the seasoning Hip hop is dead, but I still hear it breathing Clear up all the pop smoke and you can listen clearly Perception is reality, and they don’t wanna hear me Hip hop’s ugly in the eye of the beholder So now the dry raps have become the sculpters The stories of violence and blood to be spilled But no volunteers for war; they don’t want to be killed Who am I? Well, I go by many names B-Kesso, Professor, the one who loves games Thinker, Scholar, loves outsmarting the lames B,B,A,Z, rhymes like flames From Black America, a kid with a dream Matter of fact, from America, the “land of the free” And yet it feels like every day’s a type of prison to me We’re slaves to the envy, the lust and avarice Wrath, sloth and gluttony, and pride still gathering Who am I? I’m the wielder of the in-between Red, yellow, black, white, what’s the difference to me? You can be purple, hell, what’s a color to me Whether a rider or a friend, you’re a brother to me If you’re just another generic, you’re a sucker to me Another conformist hiding from the struggle, you see We walk through the flames, bathe in the pain And even when the rain stops, you know it’s coming again But you gotta stay strong, work hard to live long And later achieve the dreams of the song: Heal the World… Who am I? A utopian, maybe The words that I speak and write vary daily One thing that stays me, like history in AD I’ll always be a Kesselly, a black man, and B-A-Z