*steps in the booth...*


Iight... Av's ready... let's go...


*beat starts... (Just don't stop... Just Blaze...)*


let's begin...


ok...

recall the last days of my life and the times... that I...
felt so alone I cried... it's always dusk... dust gets me by...
why do blacks... latino's end in prison... the mission just stops,
blocks crack... pistols win... listen... friends pass... just watch...
and now... I'm standin alone... hear the wind's whistles,
under rocks... tanks are throne... and Cuba has missles...
Kobe made decisions... outkast...
out last... any back lash... I thrash at empty children's rooms missin...
back at A now... the alphabet and seasame street lied,
I tried... to dye the stained t shirts of my life with dry eyes twice...
come around the bend of my wife's elbow... settle wrong ones,
from Moses to President... nimwits in dimlit light follow Bronson metals...
get it..? weight based on the pinciples of our principals,
fat pockets... and slim ass monopolize in the eyes of criminals... GET IT..!?
fucked in fetal positions... waters blood... settin rivers on fire again,
nobody invited me in... father's love is leviathan's twin...


And I know what you been waitin for...
for me to step off... and up the scale... is the loneliest soul...
and I know what you been waitin on...
I can't see my own face in the flesh... the loneliest soul...
And I know what you been waitin for...
for me to step off... and up the scale... is the loneliest soul...
and I know what you been waitin on...
I can't see my own face in the flesh... the loneliest soul...


Dios gracias... para esta dos minutos,
regardless... the heartless... left in any battle scar... you choose...
flyin through clouds... he's sightless...
bribes blind those in plain clothes... and the sayin goes... writers right... and write less...
blame thrown at you... flame thrown at you,
expect respect to the game... when the rains throne at you...
if everyone has guns... where the fuck are all the thugs..?,
if for fun we all killers... where the fuck are all the punks..?
What could you call this reality... solitude, no luck and sterile,
if israel 4 pounds cocked for gauges... where's the truth in the lock of the barrels..?
when did the grieving fued... believing in dollars for food,
snipers posted... souls released... 28 hour evening news...
count down to revelation... heart is impatient,
especially when segregation has me stuck on the top page... feel it..?
mouthed now of elevation... got the crowd waitin,
the last emcee of the nation... has stepped to the stage... Get it..?