Meraki [Pronounced May-Rah-Kee]

Intro: Yeah You can judge me all you want But if I was to ever lucky enough to have a child I’d love em enough To tell em everything And this is where I would start [Verse 1: I.K.P.] Back in the days, before iPads actually I was trynna be the fierce one, spittin in ya Eardrum Cuz Kweli did it, spittin nimble and gifted With the likes of Norah Jones and UGK, simply sufficient Reticent in a solemn night in my first digs, Jacksonville NC Nurturing my verses behind a large oak desk Collecting Soundclick beats with the latest HP Still I stay cheap Refusing to buy a bed; a bachelor pad for real My sister on a foldout couch whenever she would visit I’m on a futon mattress, ignoring the insistence to build the futon Rather get my crew on Trey-Deuce-Deuce Producing a EP with a few songs Cheap mic, cheap software, fist full of dreams Wet behind the ears with no kinda fears [Hook: I.K.P.] I do it for the soul One of the few ways that I feel whole The creativity Is vivid wisdom for my liberty Sometimes the love, I don’t feel it But I’m too invested to give you up so easily Real Shit! Ah – I feel like something else got me… [Breakdown: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams] La-La-La La-La… Meraki, come over here to Papi La-La-La La-La… La-La-La La-La… Waaa, Waaa! Sometimes I get crazy baby girl you gotta watch me La-La-La La-La… [Verse 2:] Trynna be the fierce one spittin in ya eardrum With the lifestyle I live, you couldn’t compare none Luring other Marines to take pictures in their underwear Claiming I was a photographer and nothing weird Was going on A lonely kid with money to blow After a failed relationship, and they ain’t even know Got that House In Virginia, stayed essentially celibate Wasn’t selling a bit, but I was buying for the hell of it I used to ride thru Wilmington, Fayetteville, Raleigh, Charlotte Blowing wind in the face of caution Trynna be cordial through online dating They would just talk my ear off; I was patient Meanwhile, scoping my neighbor on the low Saturdays, shirtless, waxing his black Monte Carlo Swapping glimpses, timid, I wouldn’t draw close Peeking through venetian blinds, refinancing my car loan [Repeat Hook] [Breakdown: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams] La-La-La La-La… Meraki, come over here to Papi La-La-La La-La… La-La-La La-La… Waaa Waaaa! Sometimes I get crazy lil man you gotta watch me La-La-La La-La… [Bridge: Quentin Adams] To my unborn child When he asks me how How I made it How I made it Keepin it real, keepin it real (Yeah, Yeah, yeah) [?] [Verse 3:] More positivity, less bullshit More brimstones thrown for less truth from the pulpit I was trynna be the fierce one, spittin in ya eardrum Kweli and T.I. in my veins, I fear none Especially when I heard Kwe “Give Em Hell” Religion getting skittish when in reference to my existence And this is how I conceived my artistic mission And this is how I perceived my personal discipline Turning out the females at open mics Alongside Gemynii Evolving as she stole the nights Only my fervency turn curses into blessings Only my urgency turn near-death to new life Viral meningitis couldn’t divert my messages And a doomed bus trip in Honduras didn’t make me lose sight Eardrum, bumpin in my Chrysler Metaphysical vibes heighten to enlightenment Flowing the nicest through fiber optic bandwidth And more testicular fortitude than you can manage [Hook Outro: I.K.P. + Quentin Adams] I do it for the soul One of the few ways that I feel whole The creativity Is vivid wisdom for my liberty Sometimes the love, I don’t feel it But I’m too invested to give you up so easily Real Shit! Ah – I feel like something else got me… La-La-La La-La… Something else got me… Something else got me… La-La-La La-La…