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• Artiste: Talib Kweli
• Titre: Breath, Eyes, Memory
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See when we talking about art There's the European ideal of art And there's the African ideal of art The European ideal of art is like art for art's sake You look at a painting on a wall The African ideal art is practical, it's intentional, it's necessary Three cheers for your patience this was years in the making I stripped the beard naked dodged the fears and the hatred Let me peel back the layers, you only hear for the greatness I ain't here to be your savior, you should save them tears for later Now lets be clear, I wasn't supposed to be here I'm from the future like DeLorean, but ancient as Gregorian calendars With the leap years, rappers fishier than seafare [?] be here, move along nothing to see here These pop actions going flat like a can of soda It's a fact I keep it black while they white-washing like Sammy Sosa The white supremacist's nemesis I'll be standing over The corpses of all the corporate bosses cuz they can't control us They yelling Jaguar right I'm like, I prefer the Land Rover Plus that cougar wrong and a man know it They bootlicking for master pushing his plan forward Welp this man is over lets hand him over to cancel culture This is my therapy I'm very much alive I'm searching for the truth so the liars try to bury me A threat to my enemies They after my Breath, Eyes, Memory This is my therapy I'm very much alive I'm searching for the truth so the liars try to bury me A threat to my enemies They after my Breath, Eyes, Memory Please The words of liars never worry me Facts over hype I'm always fighting the hyperbole My flow impossible, you fake as the burgers be It's a state of emergency, the state wanna murder me Laid back with a sense of urgency If I lent you subcultural currency that's a courtesy You deus ex machina, I rewire the circuitry Brooklyn rappers known to steal the show, the flow is burglary They want my spot so bad that it hurts Too late I was here first you never put in the work Plus I'm better than you at life and get better with every verse You just as forever cursed cuz y'all fake as a pleather purse Red alert, foundational to the native tongues This is a song of defiance, yup that's a quote from native son I get busy on native drums, she a fine young cannibal America's so hungry that she ate her young This is my therapy I'm very much alive I'm searching for the truth so the liars try to bury me A threat to my enemies They after my Breath, Eyes, Memory This is my therapy I'm very much alive I'm searching for the truth so the liars try to bury me A threat to my enemies They after my Breath, Eyes, Memory