Depth

by Swords

supported by
/
  • Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

     name your price

     

  • Compact Disc (CD)

    My sophomore LP "Depth". Make some noise for the old school. Play this loud.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Depth via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days
    1 remaining

     $12 USD or more

     

1.
00:40
2.
3.
03:46
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
03:55
9.
03:16
10.
11.
12.
04:11

about

A fender bender of hip hop, rock and roll, whiskey shots, road trips, hell and high water, Depth is my sophomore LP. Never thought I would see the day it came to life.

credits

released November 1, 2013

All songs written and composed by Shannon Swords*
All songs recorded and produced by Shannon Swords at Cottage Recordings*

*except for: TMFJ -written and composed by Swords, Faust and Greenlee
**except for: TMFJ - recorded by Caleb Means at Boombox Studios

Mixed by Caleb Means at Boombox Studios
Mastered by Paul Chastain

Please see each song for individual performance credits

Dedicated to Clara Alain Meinrath-Swords.

tags

license

all rights reserved

about

Swords Urbana

Hailing from the heartland of the United States, my name is Swords. I'm an emcee/producer Raised on rock and roll and roots rock reggae, I've attempted to blaze a new trail for myself through the avenues of hip hop. In my time I've opened for acts such as Brother Ali, the Nappy Roots, Braille and Illogic. Check out the songs... ... more

contact / help

Contact Swords

Streaming and
Download help

Redeem code

Track Name: Exile Song
Exile Song

Land of bear and land of eagle
Land that gave us birth and blessing
Land that calls us ever homeward
We will go home across the mountains

We will go home
We will go home
We will go home across the mountains

Depth

(not sure if you guys wanna talk about this but...)
Track Name: That Kinda Week
That Kinda Week

I’ll start this off by saying my next records probly never dropping
just to tempt fate in case the trendy kids are watching
I don’t wanna box it into the best thing that never was
the let down of the year, here it is, hit the drums

Midwest, Bassed out, the bastard sons of rock and roll
fucking nasty on the cut like doing triple shots of Skol
as long as the barman can keep the pour steady
we raw and ready, self production coming heavy, it’s on
I spit like a cancer survivor, this the kemo
lyrical therapy buried deep inside the stylo
With a burn of the sick, lyrics legit or counterfeit
tricks to trick y’all into thinking that I really give a shit
but I don’t, these poem are just to keep it clean, yo
Razorblade salvation for my Rage Against Machine flow
Living the dream since sixteen, I kick it for the love
while I’m picking pieces of my life up out the dust
My girl left me, about a week or so ago
now I’m trying to stay cool and amputate the soul
Confusion is the state and the bills are running late
but I ain’t mad about it really, I just chock it up to fate
and let it go…

I keep my mind tightrolled, wrapped up in rubber bands
unless I got some fucking whiskey then I knock some fucking jams
They say music soothes that savage beast, well maybe
personally I’m from the school of rock and roll like ray davies
Meaning, I speak my mind with the rhyme and have a time
loose lips, piss and vinegar, lets run it down the line
It’s what I got, GOT, cool, now throw a shot down
it’s a holy war, man, I’m keeping God from coming round
Never been pretty as such, I never fucked a perfect girl
I’m just trying to set fire to ya perfect fucking world
Lacing joints with profanity whenever making statements
cuz I could give a fuck less if radio stations play this
On the playlist of ya iPod touch or car tuner
to me, this music’s stupid like consumers
Or chicas milling rumor, hearts infected with tumors
it’s 2012, I wish the end was coming sooner
This the end of my rope, ain’t no punch to the joke
a slow suicide, fuck it, like the reason I smoke
But that’s the reason I’m dope, every line is my last breath
and I come across honest when I’m spitting this rap text
Stumbled in with the spins, spit smelling of Pabst Blue
Kick the Cobaine cure, that’s who I’m tipping my cap to
the reason I rap dude, fuck you and Labat Blue
it’s been that kinda week, man music to crash to

It’s been that kinda week, man, you know what I mean
where ya ex-girlfriend keeps on haunting ya dreams
It’s been that kinda weak man you know how I feel
Cuz on the real to real, I’m just trying to deal
It’s been that kinda week, man, you know what I mean
where ya ex-girlfriend keeps on haunting ya dreams
It’s been that kinda weak man you already know
So lets do something cool, and keep a piece of my soul

Let it go…
Let it go…
Let it go…
Let her go…
Track Name: Depth
Depth

Swords:

I’m having moment like Mister Miagi in the nation’s capital
Playing Tetris with reality, focus the actual
Instead of the abstract, backpacked in chemical terms
leftover heartbreak hotel treatments for the chemical burns
Don’t be concerned with the who, what, when, why
prescribed for your minds eye, my how time flies
Flock like ravens, stand like Eric Draven in a murder of crows
Call me Sir Swords, that’s my purpose in flows
Expose the chivalry, maintain the focus in my delivery
Rebuild the Byzantine, pour the poison, live the dream
A mezzanine, mixture of better things and severed seems
Cut out the stuffing, to figure out who’s really bluffing
It’s all or nothing these days, ultimatums help the therapy
moments of clarity for the self hate, choke the Carradine
I guarantee nothing but a life worth trying for
a matador against a minotaur, yo whachu think the fires for I set it

And what is life but a shadow I remember it in…

Megan Johns:

Scraping for the change that I can be sane
clutching to the memories as time slips away
If it happens now, its over then
what is life but a shadow I remember it in
Depth

Swords:

And what is life but a shadow I remember it in…

Look, nobody gives a damn what you dream about, remember?
I choose adventure and the splendor you see in flaring tempers.
The dying embers cast a shadow across a sad state
lashed together with your spiked belt and my fat lace
Adidas worn thin from the miles of my old songs
A journey I make alone, a wager that I stake my soul on
So I suggest you hold on, proceed in caution, in fashion
the captain strapped to the mast, my Passion Ulysses
Reefs to navigate and these sirens keep calling me
but I left my cell on silent during the bliss of a calm breeze
Falling in love with broken hearts sutured, explosions
approaching, eroding the Trojan to give birth to the seed
Turbulant seas and horizons uncertain
so I stick to versing uncertain sermons for the person
who gets me without trying to match the key I’m singing in
so hey, Lonely, how you been? lets begin…

And what is life but a shadow I remember it in...

Depth
Track Name: The Girl in the Yellow Jacket
The Girl in the Yellow Jacket

I caught her out the corner of my eye down at the cafe
You couldn’t miss her, brunette came in with a cadre
of pretty hipster chicks but there was none like she
with that bright yellow jacket hanging down to her knees
She ordered a coffee, no room for cream
Sipped it, smiling, swear to god it was meant for me
See, I was struck but I had some work due by three
and the clock on the comp’s telling me two fifty
And by the time I was done, she was nowhere to be see
so I’m looking for her up and down Walnut Street
Probably shoulda said “fuck it”, at least got her name
and I’m talking to my friend and I’m trying to explain
What she looked like, he said he didn’t really know
but the next time I see her I should give it a go

Have you seen her?

The next time I saw her was a rock and roll show
She was posted stage right next to a couple of bros
But it didn’t really look like she knew em a bit
I was about to make my move when then this dumb kid
barrels into me, and starts making a scene
Ended up spilling his beer all over my jeans
Now it looks like I just took a leak in my pants
Shoulda decked him right there for spoiling my chance
But instead I dipped outside to let it dry
Have a couple of squares before making the college try
I got boxed in by my friend’s ex, she cornered me
talking all in my face, drunk and disorderly
And by the time I got back, yellow jacket was gone
now I’m walking round the club singing a Pharcyde song
Asked at the bar, they said she left with the band
Leaving me sitting here last call, God damn…

Have you seen her?

So it’s the end of the week and I’m hella relieved
Got one thing left to do, get my license renewed
So I’m in line at the DMV, four fifty three
when I turn my head and who should I see?
There she be in the tag line for the cashier
Check it, lemme explain the situation right here
If I lose my spot, then I’m missing my shot
and that late renewal fee is fifty bucks I gotta drop
Thought about it for a minute, I ain’t letting her slip
Ducked under the ropes and caught her by the exit
“Excuse me for being up front but I gotta be,
and you been running through my mind all week”
“And yo you seem really cool and I know you don’t know me
but would you be interested in either coffee or tea?”
She musta dug the direct approach in my stride
saying “I’m free tomorrow, how about around five?”
Wrote her number on the back of my hand
Then she hopped in her mazda coup and jammed
I was feeling pretty good about it on the ride home
About to put her number into my phone
But see here’s the catch, it was raining pretty hard
and I musta smeared the ink when I got in the car
Now I’m trying to figure out if that’s a four or a nine
Man, I knew I shoulda plugged it in my cell at the time
Swearing in traffic… and punching the wheel…
Hoping to catch her again, but here’s the deal.
I ain’t seen her since, man ain’t that backward
so holler at me if you’re that girl in the yellow jacket…

Have you seen her?
Track Name: Hell and High Water
Hell and High Water

Swords:

Conversation killed the moment
the kick snare combination bestills the omens
Caressing every fret, a world from the text
you once knew and loved, buzzing with the feedback
Keep it clean, Jack, jack me into the audio
it’s a grand theft, and papa know best
more or less, the rest thresholding the death threats
I’m stressed with less sex, the doc’s saying bed rest

But baby, I was born to run,
and we can talk remedies when the tour is done
Load up the drums and bass and I’m barrelling through
while these pretty indie rockers just stare at they shoes
I’m in the mix at full clip, Christmas carolling dues
with my grooves fluid same way a theremin do
Wearing a derelict mood, bumping inherited tunes
the remix, yeah, and what we taring it to
Back seat of the backbeat, the basics of the basement
tracing fame and fortune, distortion of the faceless
A brick in the wall, a face at the bar
playing guitar, making my mark while I’m waiting to start
In the flesh of ya twilight, pushing it deeper
than the depth of emotion you can fit in a speaker
Impressions and fevers dialed up at the tone
In a brooding message that I’ll check when I make it home

Megan Johns:

Find yourself an island, baby
give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance)
Find yourself a sunset, maybe
leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance)

Swords:

Let’s dance to the bitter, high plains a drifter
a prophecy fulfilling the glitz and the glitter and glam
sip the mixture next to the mic stand
fronting the hype man, exciting, a live band
And it’s live, man, LIFE, and the blanks can fill in
whatever gets blindsided by the lights on the ceiling
Feelings you can catch, I’m grasping a stress ball
but that’s between me, you and that store with the Les Paul
Yes, y’all, I guess y’all, we in it together
with the drums from the one who put the dirt in your feathers
Greasy, it keep me belief free, it’s easy
long as hell and high water stay out of the deep freeze
A midwest minute, my expected tone
and I ain’t in it for a visit, yo, express the poem
and I flex the bone, texting home, yes its on
headed west alone, bumping Methadrone

Megan Johns:

Find yourself an island, baby
give yourself a chance (a chance, a chance)
Find yourself a sunset, maybe
leave it up to chance (to chance, to chance)
Track Name: This Machine Kills Fascists
This Machine Kills Fascists

This machine kills fascists, that’s my fanatic enrollment
into the city we built brick by brick through performance
Scenes of virtue in the streets that we hustle to work through
garbage water flows through gutters giving birth to
the sterile environments, with no dreams for retirement
distorted, contorted and fashioned into a science
Silence reigns golden where united we stand
as artisans of the noise spreading like cracks through a dam.
Back of the hand, know it as slight, the light of the candles
flickers behind the background noise that we sample
broadcasting live from the underbelly intelligent
grassroots in our own right, tag my name as a delegate
From the depths we swan from to Olympian heights
across the paragraphs of rough drafts and instrumental advice
It ignites through the night like wildfire through grass
leaving the snakes charred remains in the light of a flash
Cuz this is our land, let it never be their’s
don’t let the money change the way that you flipping the snares
Beyond the cars and jewelry, beyond the credit accounts
when push comes to shove, they will edit you out
Down to my last cent, symbolic running a fever
tag the Woody Guthrie slogan across the side of my speakers
Set the tempo to nine sev so the flow can get it in yo
and for every door they shut we smash another fucking window

hip hop...
Track Name: What's Good for You
What’s Good for You

Swords:

What’s good for you, yeah…

Trials I tribulate, I never hesitate, subject to predicate
I levitate and medicate a better state, I educate
and entertain ya brain, constraining my tough talk
consigned with my cosign to wash away the chalk
On sidewalks where the nighthawks meet up to chill like
sixteen cups of diner coffee’s what it really feel like
Sometimes there ain’t no sunshine right to fit her
jetting interstates, singing along with Mister Withers
Mix some bitters in my glass, a splash to splatter to
the indie chicks with tattoos and spastic attitudes
Flattering, casual when the pathogens lace
my garage rock persona over dirty drums breaks
You don’t know me, honey, and I ain’t with this tavern
but I can span your chasm with my sarcasm
As it happens, see, papa raised a rolling stone
and I’m addicted to every note on this Epiphone
When me and Tone set it, we keep your earbuds eclectic
even though the tickertape parade is theoretic
at this point, play for loose coins and singles
but the love of the music’s really what we truly sing to
A fling to flex the focus of the dope, a hot mess
and the morning like another town, God Bless…

Tonie Sadler:

You have to learn to love what’s good for you
Waking up in a pile of shit just to watch the sun go down
Old school beat sounds good to you
like a lethal weapon mugshot shatter to the ground
then you watch it go down…

Swords and Tonie:

Motivation picks me up where you left off,
A hack and a cough to top me off with that hot sauce
on my chicken wings what a way to make a living
A simple set invention, a bland new beginning
Don’t hold me back the flow that you let on
a simple mind can adjust and so live on
Cuz yo, I get on, mics the type I sit on, what I spit on
to make us the kind of clique you wanna throw ya times on

Tonie:

Oh money, you got me
by the neck and toe, solid stuck and froze
Please release me, let me free
So I can spread my soul, into the world unknown

Tonie:

You have to learn to love what’s good for you
Waking up in a pile of shit just to watch the sun go down
Old school beat sounds good to you
like a lethal weapon mugshot shatter to the ground
then you watch it go down…
Track Name: Evil Empire
Evil Empire

Hunger Games for snakes, a stranglehold taking the nation
set it off in the ‘80s under Reagan’s administration
After the impeachment scandals at Watergate
they started building an empire state but wait wait
It took four years to incubate while the doom was set
on countdown clock warfare from a Soviet threat
Meanwhile in Nicaragua they were thinking differently
so we armed nationals to take down el presidente
Central American terrorism gets pushed
by agendas set in motion by who, George Bush
Read the books not the blood money coming from Texas
even Reagan caught a slug when they sent him a message
Don’t fuck with the fam, unless you wanna accord
engineering the crack epidemic throughout New York
That’s how things work when you’re on Capital Hill
the same people killing children who are passing the bills
It’s like a kitchen with the same cooks working the grill
the same people planting bombs who got Welstone killed
Get real if you don’t see the Empire’s rise
Political players with dollar signs in their eyes

It’s an Evil Empire
(gimme the loot, gimme the loot)

So what, you thought we wouldn’t notice?
when the towers crumbled like they were full of explosives
the fact that 9/11 effectively changed the national focus
to foreign warfare making the situation hopeless
While the media manufactures a catalyst for fear
I get refunds on my taxes during election year
See I support the troops but not the people in charge
cuz they use parlor tricks so they stay keeping their jobs
Pumping the popularity for the prez by blowing buildings?
that’s a bitch move, like bombing schools fulla childrens
But that’s how they get the funding, so they serving their purpose
for the oil contracts Saddam was selling to Europe
Scratching the surface of ya patriotic vision
Bin Laden started out as a CIA tactician
During the ‘80s when Iraq went to war with Iran
We sold Saddam the arms that were used for the job
Training terrorists to overthrow governments
Democrats, Republicans, they all fuck with it
Going hand in hand, from plan to plan
scam to scam, damn the man, I’m saying damn the man

It’s an Evil Empire
(gimme the loot, gimme the loot)
Track Name: TMFJ
Tonight the night and y’all are my family
S.DOT making my commentary honest and candid, we
have arrived to get inside the vibe of ya fantasy
proud of nothing except our own insanity
I jam on beats live, five bucks at the door
and you can cop a copy from your local record store
Verbally affecting your perception of getting raw
set with uncut truth mixed with raw metaphors
The man with the mic, I came to snap raps
that’s right I’m tight like the straps on your backpack
So pass it back, I know ya sick of the rapper act
I grab a pad and spit pieces of me into this habitat
Tragic like the havoc of a bender at Mardi Gras
Rapper with the magic, just remember I started raw
Stacked with sarcastic quips and heavy hearted songs
Check me out y’all and if not, it’s just a party y’all
Cuz like it or not, if the spot pop, I’ll be there
after slamming five shots and three beers
Leave emcees scared of going after my live act
and when you get to hell, tell Michael Jackson I want my style back

This… Right…
here’s the jam
It’s hype… SO
here’s the plan
with ya beer in ya hand, toss it up in the sky and get em high y’all
get em up get em up!

Get em High!

Yeah, and it’s a throwback sound
Ain’t nothing too smart deep or profound
It’s just some rap sound to play in the background
while you lay ya mac down, the boys are back in town
Swords, serving for the mic division
Struggle flip the funk up with a ninja’s percission
Kicking intricate riddims, getting lifted, a vision
keep it hot like a ninety degree day in the kitchen
Quit ya bitchin’, man, the big kids came to play
the whiskey sipping bastard stumble walking this way
Say what you will, I’ll be talking this way
until the break of dawn, yeah, or til the lottery pays
With the skills to pay the bills, it gets ills
on the real to make a mill with drum fills
But it doesn’t really matter, it’s a party tonight
so put ya hands in the air if your feeling alright

This… Right…
here’s the jam
It’s hype… SO
here’s the plan
with ya beer in ya hand, toss it up in the sky and get em high y’all
get em up get em up!

Get em High!

THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE…
THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE…

jam (jam, jam jam)

THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE…
THIS RIGHT… HERE’S THE…
This right here’s The MuthaFuckingJam

Hand up…
Track Name: Wine and Roses (My Favorite Drink)
Wine and Roses (and My Favorite Drink)

They musta caught me blindside, my life was a blur
the boy in the bottle ain’t been awake since the third
Head sweaty, waters broken like levies
Collecting tax from the state in a rain of confetti
And words are the solace, a poultice, a promise
depending on what gets accomplished
Honest above all else, I show the real
Call it the wrong doing of keeping it real
It’s my Achilles heel, but this is kill or be killed
so if I lace the beat right, then the thrill’ll be healed
Hip Hop’s a mess, and relate through the stress
denote it as love, and demote it to hugs
Baby doll gave up, can’t say I blame her
This records a decimal, subtract the remainder
Pain fer a buck, plus a penny for tips
for the girl in the front row licking her lips

And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to please, just a piece of the moment
that remind me of the days of wine and roses
And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen
it remind me of the days of wine and roses

(roses)

And they don’t know me and I reckon they’ll never
get past the first impression that precede the endeavor
Life’s a treasure, I wouldn’t change it for shit
unless it was never picking up these cigarettes
Daily pack a day habit lay the gravel to voice
over the fast tempo of a slow joint
From this park bench with a guitar on my lap
I watch the world fly past, yo I started from scratch
Got by off my charm, little help from my friends
Shots with Isaac, drove home, knocking the Bends
I spit different, my shit will never be pop
passed the cliche carapace of saving hip hop
It’ll be fine, don’t wast ya time crying
or pining for the summer of ‘69
At depths like this we’re liable to implode
So I shut my eyes tight and dive for the front row

And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to please, just a piece of the moment
that remind me of the days of wine and roses
And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen
it remind me of the days of wine and roses

We living in the days of smoke and mirrors
drifting in the haze to choke the tears
I play to the hearts with open beers
and express it on the mic with broken cheer
There I chill, fist fulla bills destined for the till
when you take the next seat and you tell me I’m ill
Couldn’t appreciate it more, love, we one and the same
even if in ten minutes, I won’t remember your name
You see my aim in the brain, here to entertain
educate, elevate, expressions of game
Maintain for the heads who want it seven ways
from Sunday to one day, we’ll see better days
Wine and roses, life and times, the focus, hope is
sunny, scummy, beneath the shades, it’s lovely
Rose colored, I’ll catch you in the next life
here’s to gratitude, I’ll take my whiskey on ice

And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to please, just a piece of the moment
that remind me of the days of wine and roses
And my favorite drink be the one you buying for me
like you see something in me that I’m trying to be
Dying to breath, just a piece of the omen
it remind me of the days of wine and roses

(roses, roses, roses)
Track Name: Shoulda Had Ya Back
Shoulda Had Ya Back

And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do
and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous”
And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her
But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either

I keep my keepsakes locked in a box painted yellow
a menajerie of ghosts like seeing Pac at Cochella
Mementos, memories, sorted with a deep pain
similar to the ring I used to keep on my keychain
They saying bygones but I can’t quite let it go yet
the monkey on my back keeps waking me up with cold sweats
Hating you with every breath drawn, dusk to past dawn
what I can’t figure here, darling, is how it last long
Maybe I should pass on the party, fix my life shit
but hanging in downtown seems to loosen up these tight lips
Using my mic grip to paint pictures in flavors
various capers and unsanitary saviors
Pretending to be a player when really I got a battered mood
Just and average dude who had an aptitude to flatter you
And I don’t know where you are, and I don’t even wanna
maybe next year we’ll be rid of the trauma

And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do
and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous”
And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her
But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either

You were my lady in the lake, stilling the shakes in my palm
the balm, the chap on my lips, the one keeping me strong
through the blood and dust of travels and uphill battles
the noose at the gallows, the jelly fish swimming the shallows
I calm my pace to a slow stride, walking a low tide
to skirt you with the help of friends standing on both sides
The hope died, but this my town, I’m sipping Phoenix Down
Heart hanging heavy with the head that wears the crown
This my birth rite, best believe I’m reclaiming that
Your man? I can’t blame the cat, there ain’t no shame in that
We all need love, and you’re a cool ass girl, doll
and once upon a time I’da give you the world, doll
But things change quicker than you expecting em to
and we can’t go back to who we used to be at twenty two
So when I said I didn’t try, that don’t mean I don’t regret it
And saying you didn’t either may be in need of an edit
But look, I said it, I meant it, understand or resent it
chances are you’ll never hear this anyway and that’s splendid
See, I wrote it for me, there ain’t no audience intended
depending on whether or not you give a fuck how things ends

And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t

(here we go)

And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
I dunno, darling, if that means I suck, then I do
and the next time we meet, you can say ya “fuck yous”
And I shoulda had ya back but I didn’t
And I should want you back but I don’t
It ain’t for me to justify the ol’ love her and leave her
But even though I didn’t try, you didn’t either
Track Name: 217
217

(One two one two)

(I guess this is it… I love y’all)

Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good
A little rough around the cut but, yo, it roll like it should
Songs of fire and ice, make sure the science is tight
somewhere on the off chance that the Mayans were right
Finish the session, mix and master the weapons
settled back to do impressions as Armageddon sets in
This has been your host for the evening, Swords
Thanks for all the support and the rounds of applause
So keep it clapping while I’m waxing on wax at Kopi
I promise the next record will be much less mopy
Really though, I’m just along for the ride
Living my life on the spare for the nickels and dimes
I dine fine, work hard, live fast and play it fair
Forbear these snares to avoid a Red Scare
Truth is, beats aside, I’m really just a rapper
Walking my shame back to the happily ever after
Getting promiscuous, the style askew meticulous
my beats are different than the latest, gimme a witness
For the confidence in style that is getting me paid
for the confidence in spit which is getting me laid

(217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at)
(Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good)
(217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at)
(And all these songs can stand as matters of fact)

The year of transition, thank God I recorded it
So much for ambition, yo I say we forfeit it
But I’m on a damn mission, the world, to orbit it
Going by my Christian, final stage of metamorphisis
I saw the future in a bottle of Avion
headed up to Chicago for my grandma’s funeral
Now I spit it for her ghost with a steady arm
Keeping it literary, giving you less of the usual
Unique like New Yor, keep the beats with an ill score
Passion, skill or the ideals you kill for
Must be something in the fucking reason I rap
While the rest of the world was appeasing the whack
I take it back sixty eight, tracing ya face
playing the ace in the deck except I’m making a break
somewhere south of the border, maybe west of the sun
so sing it, baby, I was born to run
And sometimes, it seems uncertain
But the truth is, baby doll, I’ve been working
Making excuses, for these sermons as such
cuz in reality I’m just another person you touch
It’s all it’s cracked up to be, now I’m shacked up
Passed out while I get a back rub
Swords, so put it up and this is the midwest
Yes to the yes, this has been

(depth)

(217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at)
(Arrivederci, honey, you know the goings been good)
(217 baby) (that’s the place where I’m at)
(And all these songs can stand as matters of fact)