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about

For more of MICjordan's music, videos, and info please visit:

micjordan.bandcamp.com
thebarexam.bandcamp.com
www.reverbnation.com/micjordan916


for music by other TPR artists, please visit:

Tribe of Levi at tribeoflevi.bandcamp.com
Agustus ThElefant at soundcloud.com/agustus-thelefant
Bru Lei at soundcloud.com/bru-lei
Century Got Bars at century1.bandcamp.com
Mahtie Bush at mahtiebush916.bandcamp.com
MICjordan at www.reverbnation.com/micjordan916
MLS (Monotone and Lou Slug) at soundcloud.com/wearemls
Nome Nomadd at www.reverbnation.com/nomenomadd
NowOrNever (NON) at www.reverbnation.com/noworneveroftol
Old Ghost at oldghost1.bandcamp.com
Poor Majesty at poor.bandcamp.com
Styles1001 at styles1001.bandcamp.com
WesttKraven (AKA TheGreenRoom) at westtkraven.bandcamp.com

credits

released January 21, 2014

all lyrics and vocals: MICjordan (J. Beasley)
all beats: Hippie Sabotage (J. Saurer, K. Saurer)

all songs recorded and mixed by MICjordan at Metroplex, Sacramento, CA

cover photo by Lyric Verse

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EnsiteNonStop Sacramento, California

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Track Name: The Enlightenment
(hook)
Life's no joke, it ceases, we don't own, we lease it
so-called religious folks provoking Jesus to return and seize it,
it seems hopeless, but don't believe it
the problem is, we're so hardened, we only open when we're broke in pieces!
trying to cope with treasonous leaders that's high on coke
who lied and smote innocents with fire and smoke
though we don't notice or won't perceive it
so we blindly grope when we could expose our eyes and see it

(verse 1)
this is Abaddon's millenium, the end of the aeon,
battling Saturn, these rabid patterns men play on,
pentiums, pentagrams, pentameter, pentacost,
penitentiary, prisoners, produce profits, what gets lost
in the shuffle is that thought is the muscle that moves the body politic
that's why I hardly care about parties, cuz all that shit
is what it is, but I am what I am, too,
we've been stressin preconceptions, what we can and we can't do
but the fact is, we're limitless, rap's just an instance of this
at least when its practitioners get back to genuineness
I see it all like panoramic vision, kids
start off with bright eyes but by the time they're 36
they're just shells, like the copper casings pistols eject
the pain spreads like when hollow tip missiles connect
to tissues and enter your flesh, by the time it's an exit wound
it's five times bigger than the first hole that was left in you
and that hole I'm talking about is inside
pretend to deny the emptiness? Many men tried
to this end, we lie and influence just to bend lives
tentative to try the percentages, it's pretty grim, why?
cuz we're not honest with ourselves,
accumulate possessions with no appreciation for the real cost of wealth
so now our thoughts are jails like we're jacked in the Matrix,
exchanging cash for fake shit, but authenticity is not for sale

(hook)
Life's no joke, it ceases, we don't own, we lease it
so-called religious folks provoking Jesus to return and seize it,
it seems hopeless, but don't believe it
the problem is, we're so hardened, we only open when we're broke in pieces
trying to cope with treasonous leaders that's high on coke
who lied and smote innocents with fire and smoke
though we don't notice or won't perceive it
so we blindly grope when we could expose our eyes and see it

(verse 2)
many times, I've felt a funny vibe and heeded it
immediate, cuz people can be devious,
money and lives cancel each other out often over beef when it
becomes apparent the two must cross like crucifixes
America is a ruthless business, believe in this
our market theology got us all becoming hedonists
and when we live only for pleasure, we do what's expedient
the people leading us aren't the best and the brightest, they're the greediest
got uniformed thugs beating us, reallocating resources that really oughta be for the neediest
so when your wages ain't enough to make it, and you've gotta feed your children
then you're gonna make it happen even if you gotta be the villain
cuz the fact is, nowadays, the law's a fraud
whether or not it's legal, money gets made in foul ways
cuz violence stays the means to an end, not the cause
to crooks running this country I love, it's child's play

(hook)
Life's no joke, it ceases, we don't own, we lease it
so-called religious folks provoking jesus to return and seize it,
it seems hopeless, but don't believe it
the problem is, we're so hardened, we only open when we're broke in pieces
trying to cope with treasonous leaders that's high on coke
who lied and smote innocents with fire and smoke
though we don't notice or won't perceive it
so we blindly grope when we could expose our eyes and see it
Track Name: The Deep End
(hook):
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends: when men speak feminine,
friends tend to beef, then everybody's reaching,
the heat thumps like drumbeats, and leaves niggas leakin'
the same scene again
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends... we gotta draw lines to read between them
see through a clean lens, stop actin funny,
start craftin some peace, to prevent
the same damn scene again

(verse 1)
The party's hella crackin, everyone is having fun
all of a sudden you hear screams "oh my God, he has a gun"
and as you hear the blasts, you run, after six claps it's done
but even though you were a track star, you ain't as fast as one
of the bullets that carves a burning spiral through your flesh
learning survival rules ain't fresh, concerning lives of who gets blessed
and who don't makes you consider the chances that you won't
as you run and more of your blood soaks through your new coat
til you're feeling light headed... this is the night you dreaded,
but the you could be me so I know any time I could get it
so until that day comes I'm James Caan in the Way of the Gun
prefer to converse to spraying the snub
but if they wanna play rough, and escape is not an option
I'll put led in your lid like the nails in your coffin
cuz even though I'm an author living in a midtown apartment,
I'm from the South Side of Sac, so I'm still a marksman

(hook)
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends: when men speak feminine,
friends tend to beef, then everybody's reaching,
the heat thumps like drumbeats, and leaves niggas leakin'
the same scene again
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends... we gotta draw lines to read between them
see through a clean lens, stop actin funny,
start craftin some peace, to prevent
the same damn scene again

(verse 2)
I was getting ready for a show one day
and though I don't do crimes, I was inclined to tote the eight
cuz the spot was in a hood I almost got blown away in
in eleventh grade, I ducked and sprinted home when they sprayed
but the fear of the experience all those years ago stayed
I asked N.O.N. if he thought I shoulda brought, and he said "no way,
cuz what you bring out of your home sets the tone, so play
it cool, prepare for peace, fuck bustin heat, I'd rather pray"
and I felt him, but the concerns still don't go away
cuz I've learned kids you've known for days smile to cloak their hate
til they're standing behind a pistol they're holding to your face
so when I debate whether to take my toast to a certain place,
it's not because I'm out to hurt and waste some perp, or jake,
catch a murder case and a face a horrid fate,
nope, it ain't, honestly I just hope I'm safe
I'm sure every average Joe who owns chrome relates

(hook)
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends: when men speak feminine,
friends tend to beef, then everybody's reaching,
the heat thumps like drumbeats, and leaves niggas leakin'
the same scene again
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends... we gotta draw lines to read between them
see through a clean lens, stop actin funny,
start craftin some peace, to prevent
the same damn scene again

(verse 3)
I'm not a violent person.
I'm far more likely to spend a night in church than a minute in a shootout
'cause I've seen niggas die and hearses
carry 'em off to underlie the surface, what's the purpose?
scared of being soft, now they're hard and stiff, was it worth it?
becoming your dream is all being an artist is
so fuck going down for what some dumb partner did,
I'm trying to live, I haven't even really gotten started, kid
so now it's constant expansion, though to be honest, dancing
with my demons is wearing me down, feet don't fail me now
I wanna carry out plans to bail this town and play for crowds
make hits so hard they'd make Junior Seau
cuz in Sac I feel cramped up, plus every man acts tough, like "hands up!"
I've had enough of the crap, I can't stand this damn stuff,
the stress and despair.... gotta get some fresh air, but the question is where?

(hook)
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends: when men speak feminine,
friends tend to beef, then everybody's reaching,
the heat thumps like drumbeats, and leaves niggas leakin'
the same scene again
what do you do when you're deep in the deep end?
it depends... we gotta draw lines to read between them
see through a clean lens, stop actin funny,
start craftin some peace, to prevent
the same damn scene again
Track Name: The Oooweee
(verse 1)
yo, the trash cans stunk, even the waste made us high,
inhaled cannabis skunk and got that first taste of crime
from a nickel to a dime to an eighth at a time
& finally weight, 'cause three point five for fifty ain't fly
the war on drugs is a money-wasting disgrace, the state's why
using guns to tell consumers what they-could-buy, and couldn't
based on lies, printed on paper made of wooden pulp
I opened the vaults, took a look at the books and gulped
'cause William Randolph Hearst, the real Citizen Kane,
used the newspapers he owned to say it drive your kids insane
and motivates caucaisian daughters to give niggers brains
and that it has no legitimate uses, which is strange
cuz to this day, a doctor can use heroine or cocaine
but it's a federal crime to prescribe hemp for pain
which made sense to me when I learned later
a machine called the decorticator was hurtin' his paper
'cause instead of wood pulp, it used hemp, which was cheaper
and produced printable product with superior features
we believe spurious teachings screamed by furious preachers
I can't help but think humans are quite curious creatures

(hook)
Crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl

(verse 2)
life can leave you scarred and detached, for Mic it got hard to relax
on guard 'cause in Sac it's real like a heart attack
between carjacks and jakes trying to smash my hardhat
I could feel myself start to crack, and I wanted no part of that
so I break apart a wrap and spark a sack
then step back a bit from life and try to see a broad perspective
like how we teach odd directives that keep us all raw and desperate
so I say thank God for lettuce... anyway, I can't afford a psychiatrist
plus they say 'put the hay away,' then turn around and tell you 'try this shit'
as they put a can of pills in your hand, for real, man?
I don't feel that plan, I prefer a no-frills plant to pills that can't
treat depression without causing side-effects
doctors provide that shit to patients but can't say they've tried it yet
so I say, shred the grapes to get away from the oppressive weight
just don't fuck around and smoke so much you end up stuck on section 8!

(hook)
Crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
light it up
crack a satchel and pack a fat bowl
Track Name: The Real
(verse 1)
I got a savage flow, so don't try to test me
you'll find out: I'm not your average Joe, like Pesci
the game is sick like Magic so prose don't stress me
I control crowds like referees especially
with the rest of the Levis next to me it's so foul
live evil, turn the Nile into Bile, steel into style,
skill into vials of lethal substance
but you expose your child to violent people, so what's with
the accusations?
Focusing on this matrix placed us within the hands of Satan
trying to escape illusions we make
when delusions replace
real viewings which we achieve in dreamscapes,
pursuing escape from this obscene state of confusion
meaning imagination gets smashed by laziness
since the public loves dumbness, why kill yourself making crazy shit?
i see crowds lose their minds over rhymes with a baby's wits
inarticulate artificial shit they spit lately makes me sick!

(hook)
some people write about facts that are real
some people might act in ways they think that you'll feel
me, I'd rather chill
still, the world turns like fortune's tragic wheel
hot enough to even scorch a man of steel
some people explain their experience
some people stay insane or delirious
what we say to the curious
is pimped for luxurious lifestyles, it's type foul
but the jury-is still out, 'cause real life requires realness

(verse 2)
Like Beanie Sigel said, everything is real already
including ideas, that why thoughts are called heavy
when they carry weight that make you break em down like a Chevy
or a Ford, and we go towards the Lord when we're ready
and we worship God because He/Her/It creates us
in the image of Itself, thus empowering us to make up
things we snatch from dreams, but when we wake up we take stuff
back into the material realm and make it shape up
but we're actually scared of shakeups
to avoid earthquakes we stay in ruts, as if that could save us
So is it all about a rapper's flavor? Do I even have to say 'word'?
Should I? Is what I'm hearing even worth the paper
of the contract that enslaved ya to your major?
I'm underground and struggling, so you say I'm a hater
I'll say you're straight garbage, you don't deserve fame,
I wish you'd try to talk shit, I'd turn your name into a crater

(hook)
some people write about facts that are real
some people might act in ways they think that you'll feel
me, I'd rather chill
still, the world turns like fortune's tragic wheel
hot enough to even scorch a man of steel
some people explain their experience
some people stay insane or delirious
what we say to the curious
is pimped for luxurious lifestyles, it's type foul
but the jury-is still out, 'cause real life requires realness

(verse 3)
What we read and write confuses; do our movements work as planned?
it's been greed and strife, abuses, since us humans first could stand
it might seem like life is useless as we're cruelly murked, but fam,
even the speed of light reduces as the universe expands!
What we speak in spite refuses to just lose its hurtful brand
so we bleed and fight, ruthless, proving who's the worst man
and our screams and frightened cruises through this ruined earth's lands
are a secret rite, producing crueler, murderous hands
on the street, the plight is rooted in the sewers, turf is damp
and the creeps and shifes that's putrid do this ghoulish circle dance
while the demons delight in ruinous acts of doom, eternally damned
we all weep and bite our blue lips, while pursuing purple grams
but don't seek to right misuses of our earnings and lands
can we see this blighted ruse or construe it as circumstance?
I believe excitement moves through my music, work, and fans
so I think of giant huge shit, then do it with words like Bam!

(hook)
some people write about facts that are real
some people might act in ways they think that you'll feel
me, I'd rather chill
still, the world turns like fortune's tragic wheel
hot enough to even scorch a man of steel
some people explain their experience
some people stay insane or delirious
what we say to the curious
is pimped for luxurious lifestyles, it's type foul
but the jury-is still out, 'cause real life requires realness
Track Name: The Flesh
(Verse 1)
I'm lying next to a woman that I don't want around
fantasies of true loves invade my thoughts and I frown
'cause I gots ta get down... at least that's how I trained myself
because the chase and the hunt is just a game and I play it well
but I wonder if I'm creating hell, custom-made for me
I feel the darkness calling whenever we touch and play, 'cause see,
I hastily pounced when the cat was displayed, and seized
but I want to turn away when I hear her voice say to me
anything resembling emotional attachment
instantly I'm grimacing while posted on her mattress
i feel fiendish 'cause I know I'm stoking sadness
'cause I don't care about her feelings, so what we have is
not special or sacred, we're just dealing
with animal urges, realizing that is revealing
'cause the relationship looked open but there's a glass ceiling
so what we do is sexual, but isn't really healing

(Hook)
these are my confessions
for I am weak in the flesh
i lose sight of what i really ought to seek and get stressed
so now my heart is cold
although her body is hot
I can't have what I want,
so I settle with what I've got

(Verse 2)
My tongue is made of silver, my dick is made of diamond
my words can break a strong woman's will like her hymen
I have the hands of a lover, but the heart of a killer
the feeling keeps em coming back like a crack dealer
She's looking for a thrill, and I provide her with plenty
She says that I'm delicious but I leave her feeling empty
my game is hella vicious like I'm dealing with an enemy
she wants me for my kisses, I just want what she can give to me
but immediately afterwards, I'm saying I gotta bounce
'cause I feel uncomfortable even staying inside her house
I work the cat till she's squeaking like a mouse, then I'm out,
'cause my affection lasts just long enough to cum in her mouth
and leave her with a frosted face, but me, I'm lost in space
I'm a fraud, a fake, a monster, though I never caught a case
I'm the man who wasn't there, my identity is erased
in this race to the bottom, I've gotten scared of the pace

(Hook)
these are my confessions
for I am weak in the flesh
i lose sight of what i really ought to seek and get stressed
so now my heart is cold
although her body is hot
I can't have what I want,
so I settle with what I've got

(Verse 3)
Not too far in the past, when my hardening heart was smashed
into shards sharp as glass, my mind started to crack
I collapsed, I couldn't cry, but it wasn't hard to laugh
wondering if this darkened path was the mark of God's wrath
so the pain I cause is an artifact of hard knock class
artifice is hard to resist with a broad in your lap
and I do believe in love, but don't know if I deserve it
observing the courses of these forces made me absurdist
so I laugh as they hurt us, 'cause the pain is what connects us
I used to be so faithful, but became such a slut
it's strange how we change just to fuck, getting service
is all that makes sense when our ideals become worthless
kisses become curses, memory's a savage biz
'cause I died inside, but don't know if I'd rather live
was it guilt that built this sadness? Does it matter in the end?
Because all I know is heartbreak, so that's all that I can give

(Hook)
these are my confessions
for I am weak in the flesh
i lose sight of what i really ought to seek and get stressed
so now my heart is cold
although her body is hot
I can't have what I want,
so I settle with what I've got
Track Name: The Last Tear
(verse 1)
This is the last tear I'll shed, the last fear or dread,
that which I hold dear is dead, fuck love, I'll pursue my career instead
cuz my thoughts are too dense for my peers' heads
they'd rather have King Kong than King Lear, they said
so I give 'em MacBeth: a swift death,
witches caress a nigga's neck even kisses are threats,
to call this shit stress is an understatement
understanding makes me wonder hating had me going dumber
now I'm damn near speechless,
police get budget increases but it leave kids optionless
except the very thing they cautioned us not to get caught up in
pickups, drops, niggas get popped and flipped, shot, and clipped
the fear holds our consciousness hostage, and our consciences
ought to get loud but they're too shocked to spit
it's a holocaust with a twist, the murder is institutional
the twin towers fell--poof!--where the fuck did our future go?
where's the answers? People act like it's rude to probe
when we follow the way the money moves, we know
when the truth gets suppressed, then the movement grows
the people we're seeing on TV, leading, are our true foes
leaving our minds like their hearts--with huge holes
got us playing the fool's roles, illusions steal our lessons
while our constitution collapsed like world trade building seven
we were busy killing brethren
If it's really true that Man was made in God's image, I bet it's hella ill in heaven

(verse 2)
Life is uglier than modern art
I often walk through parks on sunny days but still my thoughts are dark
you gotta have a destination to really be called lost
and I'm too broke to afford a Molotov bottle's cost,
to say nothing of the gas to put inside of it
life can whup a square man's ass, I wonder how crooks survive the shit
I guess plenty don't, getting money's no joke
'cause I don't find many things that are funny when broke
except the fact that my college degree cost a hundred grand, but was it worth it?
I really gotta wonder, damn
it's a bad feeling in the air, like the Summer of Sam
I don't run for fun because it makes me feel like a hunted man
and if you say to me "J-beez, you're going crazy", I'll say just play Jay-Z
because soon you'll understand
it's really not cool to have a view of the future
where computers run schools and the rulers are even crueler
the barbaric deeds of the past are what we'll see in the path
of the crisis on its way to leave society smashed
so why do we laugh? Well it's not because it's amusing
more like, losing our sanity to movies on viewscreens
giving unruly teens foolish dreams of loot and cream
if it ain't wool for pulling over eyes, it's sure fooling me
so tell me what's success, is it collecting a check? The love and respect?
or is it just stress that corrupts our interests?
Track Name: The Heart And Mind
(hook)
somebody said once that life was a dream
but to me it seems more like a fight in the ring
but I'm wise to the schemes, to uprise and redeem
takes the heart of a lion and the mind of a king

(verse 1)
When we're kids, we live in the moment, which is great,
but mistakenly associate that with fate
waste opportunities to relate to human beings
make movie screens we populate with ruined dreams
instead of trying to truly see who you could be, so we chafe
brushing up against nothingness, because we know escape
is impossible, as time passes, losses grow
sleepless nights, hospitals, and black suits, tossin soil
that's a part of it, but don't think it left me heartless, just
know that that's what it took for me to grow as an artist, shit
I asked for this when I begged God for gas to spit
to manifest magic tricks and massacre manuscripts
but it's only one way to gain substance: to stand beneath assumptions, look up and ask "what's this"
it's so much-it-twists comprehension, but if you discover it, you get honest wisdom
and that's why I love it

(hook)
somebody said once that life was a dream
but to me it seems more like a fight in the ring
but I'm wise to the schemes, to uprise and redeem
takes the heart of a lion and the mind of a king

(verse 2)
You'll be surprised what you can find in a book if you take time to look
you ever visualize a scholar with the mind of a crook?
you see the ideas are the line, and the rhymes are the hook
when I reel-to-reel you in and that's why they're shook
'cause they acknowledge the power of hip hop to connect us
it undermines the system of separation they've set up
they try to knock us down when we step up
that awful sound as the next judge sentences brothers that he's locking down
guards your thoughts around the idiot box you're watching, pal
we have identities, but want to be lost in crowds
is it to duck responsibility? Don't pass the buck, be honest, really see
instead of closing your eyes and lying to yourself willingly
I got bigger fish to fry and more important things on my mind than whether or not you're feeling me
corporate mergers, tortures and killings, poisoning air our children breathe
the signs are converging chillingly, where will we go?

(hook)
somebody said once that life was a dream
but to me it seems more like a fight in the ring
but I'm wise to the schemes, to uprise and redeem
takes the heart of a lion and the mind of a king
Track Name: The Opening
(verse)
I was still small when my pops taught me how to kill
fish, fowl, and beast of the field, it all was real
waiting to exhale, pull the trigger, jerk the line,
the first time, I cried like I was forced into crime
my pops took me aside, smiled & wiped my eyes off
and said "it's alright to cry when you empathize with loss
and that's not a weakness, understand as I speak this
conclusion took me half my life to reach, my belief is
the secret of strength is sensitivity, but to achieve this
you must go the length, listen and see your unique gifts.
it's a one-degree shift to tears from deep bliss
some leave their peers, even quit careers, they reach this
limit where they're forced to confront thoughts they bottled up
or get lost, follow the darkness and get swallowed up
so recognize the real even as you stay in the moment
and thank God for every meal and each day that He loaned us
in the best of times, kneel to give praise for the bonus
but even when it's time to kill, you still pray for opponents
we were created as one, and one day we'll become
aware that we were never actually divided, my son.
so the pain that you feel for the death you brought about
for us to eat this meal is what respect is all about
but understand, as we grow we all have to make choices
and a real man's agenda is deeper than pain avoidance
use your brain to frame the hurt so your heart stays rejoicing
because the flipside of this ride we're on is great enjoyment!"
that flipped my whole wig, because my pops was a G
since I lost him I've often thought about his talks with me
hard knocks when I forgot what he taught me about honesty
my tale is one of tragedy, drama became comedy
rapidly, I stay trapped in these strange qualities
then fade to black when the plot plays out beyond my scene
staying calm, I want to scream at the top of my lungs
scared I'll burn like I was shot by a gun, I'm not the one
no Neo, just a cold negro who used to boldly seek to go toe-to-toe with evil
now my goals are equal to those of old people
knowing that the close is close, hoping for a dope sequel
so we kneel and beg for absolution from our avarice
dealing slaves and pollution, ravaging, ravenous, savages
we deserve whatever fate we get but in His grace He may take me yet
I don't pretend that I know which way I'll get
will I be vibing in the Presence, hella relieved and shit,
or in Hell screaming 'what about the good deeds I did?'
Humans don't deserve Heaven, except a very few
that's a fact that's both scary and true
so I wonder, when I'm buried and my part of this story is through
will memories of me still be carried by you?

(hook)
so have an open heart, and an open mind
you'll meet love with open arms, at least that's what I hope you'll find
(repeat)