the son equals tomorrow before yesterday comes,
the best that comes brings the rest for ones repeating sorrow...
won't see the moon when the star shines, borrow,
a persona to personally... stand in shadows and rent time...
we rent to rhyme... vent to climb over the mountain,
quarter ass arguments and arumentally drown in the fountain...
sound is astounding when words speak and heart melts,
bright lights n' shower... powers felt when verbs meet...
peeps greet and lights dim, rights slim n' lean streets,
we seek to enlighten weak links... even a fiend seeks...
a titan in greek seats... a cry in clean sheets,
4 girls die as christ cries, mary wallows in self pity...
and we consider ourselves gritty, grimey & nasty,
no guns... no clips... no safety... now verbal assassains..?
we morally askin... lesbians against bush... tragic,
country bent over... ass first... cars are drugs to traffic...


now kids on the street cryin, lyin over disease,
focused with E... fight for freedom over the seas...
no reason to please... do for yours and ask what not
with one's shot... media exploit a man that killed a cop..?
and he killed not one... can't get over this shit,
liberation is liberally introduced over the air at six...
their days reduced and pick a ballot for president,
while we presently censor our life's relationships...
and I can't go on today no more. E-
strained, back sprianed from carryin the game to glory...
can't do shit for me,we ran and jump... the same fences-
and pump the same inches, came from the same story...
blame the same ocean that brought me here,
flame the same notion I brought when I brought fear...
and my thoughts here on out...
are sonnin you muthafuckas until you know exactly what Mr. E's about...


and I even debated to show up
time has come... get off ya shoulders, now's here, muthafucka grow up...
we aint sidin with power,
how you ready to wage war... makin 6.25 an hour...
can't afford to buy where you work, live where you clean,
won't help you live out ya dream... n' the city is worse...
women n' children sellin they bodies,
niggas clappin who adore ya ass for sellin they shotties...
and we all scared to ask questions...
throughout our society I've learned fuck you n' communist lessons...
Mel's question persists, while you work to earn,
other's work to burn... and they thinks we don't exist...
concrete jungles and bloody fist...
no ones knows who's blood it is if the concept is mumbled...
and you fumble ya life, ya net worth is cheap,
now we can't eat, but ya life's centered on beef...






fuck a hook... hear it on the album...

__________________

I am
The Next Level

Mark Greyson