Tekstovi: Blue Scholars. Bayani. Joe Metro.

I reach beneath the skin of the street with each step
Walkin' closer to my final destination of death
When I'm layin' to rest, I'm only savin' my breath
The Northwest fills the lungs, heals the pain in my chest

Take six quarters out of the pocket
Drop it in the box
Hop the 48, off to pay homage
It stops often, I jot my observations, watchin'
Citizens walkin' off of the Joe Metropolitan
Proletariats and wayward sons
With old Filipino men speakin' in they native tongue
And the day is just begun
Greeted by the scent of a bum
Smelling something like beer, barf, and dung
A brother in repose in the back all alone
Marinatin' in a pair of half-broken headphones
Muddled in rhymes
Same time begin to pen mine
Appreciating God's design
Rewind sister
Reminds me of a smile in the back of my memory
Wonder if I'll see her again
Will she remember me?
"I'm not tryin' to holler, I swear. I'm just weary of the way we hop a ride
And just sit there and stare."
Prepare for my nine o' clock work meeting
A couple pale folks slide right by with no greeting
But the people with my phenotype follow with a head-nod up
Because we acknowledge that the shit's fucked up

North of Martin Luther King: a straight warzone
Detours through the concrete, cranes, and bulldozers
No, the Hill is not over still
Every block got a coffee shop; it's overkill
Focus, know the deal
Dope to see Kalil back, the medicine is good again
The feeling: illegal, and coming back to your hood again
It's priceless, I write this, our lives are in crisis
Most talk, but don't walk, the path of the righteous
Despite this...
I measure each step, walkin' closer to my final destination of death
When I'm layin' to rest, I'm only savin' my breath
The Northwest fills my lungs, heals the pain in my chest
Clutch the moment, a transfer in my hand
Still listening
Lookin' out the window to the gold and the gray
And the sun might be shinin' but it's colder than it seems
'Cause the weather's dialectical: there's no in-between

In walks an old soul
A First Nation native, cat's chiseled like a totem pole
No words, as he stands and looks over us
He gets off and says, "Have a good day, you foreigners."
I, crack a smile one time for the acknowledgement
Northbound, now we start to pick up more college kids
They try to study on the ride
To make up for the fact that they probably kicked it hard last night
And I ponder if it's time to save up and get a car
And pay for the gas that we're takin' from the war
I'd miss all the colorful faces, the places, and spaces I've embraced with
The faith that I can rest and raise kids here even with these cats set
Trippin'
Bringin' '95 back again, same old conditions
From Reagan, to Bush, to Clinton, to the Bush the 2nd
No matter the neighborhood in the city you're reppin'
It's gettin' serious y'all
You can even hear the rebel call
Gettin' off, leavin' hella pieces on the walls
Seen it all, sittin' sideways with my townmates
Only place left where majority is brown-faced

Now we headed downtown to trade our labor for cash
I thank the navigator once and walk fast
I walk past the next round of cats to jump on it
Locked in deep thought, we ride around in silence
And cross Resolve Bridge
I watch each step, walkin' closer to my final destination of death
When I'm layin' to rest, I'm only savin' my breath
The Northwest fills the lungs, heals the pain in my chest
I remain blessed, steppin' on rain with each step
Eyes heavy from the lack of the cousin of death
When I'm layin' to rest, I'm only savin' my breath
The Northwest fills the lungs y'all, you know the rest...