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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?

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


from The Real, released January 21, 2014
lyrics: MICjordan
beat: Hippie Sabotage



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