Flute by Melanie Charles
Keys by PauL "Bae Bro" Wilson
prod. Jean Grae
It’s hard to say that we could never speak again,
Or even just to keep it frequent, hard to keep it in
Harder to speak within the bars limits, of deep dissent
of weeping at 15 percent of caring where you keep your head
Of daring to pretend things would be different if just he was dead
Fingers hover over keys with just nothing to right wrongs, or write songs, so I close the window on it
Took me until my 30s just to put my finger on it, once you accept the knowledge solace doesn’t follow honest
meet me back 89, where we’re babies still, before the new dawn of your mind, before you went dormant in pills
a kill switch I wish they made one, blaming one - motherfucker who still never changed from - blaming mom, blaming us, for addiction claiming none, praying 5 times a day was saving us?
Fuck him, thank him for the genes, unfortunately ain’t enough…
cause ain’t a love fucked if ain’t love but thinking love hurts with them fists words, and the discourse fists firsts,
This passed over me landed on y’all
Watched you landing in walls
still mad my physical body wasn’t damn strong, or mad tall, was just young, with this functional disability one,
Couldn’t do all I wanted my mobility stunted, y’all I would’ve killed him million hundred times, no stalling on it, gasoline pouring on it, that’s Jean falling on it knife into his sternum, and I’m turning on it, burn it all it’s worth it all, you’re worth it all, inverted comet collisions, and watch your comic book visions be fruitful
watch the dominant sibling be useful
Watch our lives be truth filled
Do you still… remember me and you still
We been through things. You been through things.
You Pepsi soda. You challenge.
I’ve seen you die a thousand times. And be reborn.
As something new. That yen and yen. That yang and yang.
Extremes. Shattered dreams.
We old folks still trying to cope
ain't no joke.
True I disagreed with some decisions.
That split the tree as we received as little seeds.
But we grown. You make yo bed. I make my own.
No stones tossed. Cause I done crosses lines plenty times.
Still you & you and I, the small fries, my sister and OGs.
Regrets cause I fade out. Then fade back.
I coulda this. I shoulda that.
Seen cul de sacs get cold from time to time.
Just mind your motives and hold ya mind.
In case these words find you in favor from the other side.
Sometimes we come out these cacoons as coons. Not buterflies.
Less cut and dry.
The under eyes got bags with tags from all the travels. We maintain.
With no regrets to proudly claim. The lost and found amongst these mental planes.
Everything’s okay or so they say
supported by 283 fans who also own “Everything's Fine”
Mike Eagle is by far one of the most creative hip hop artists working today in terms of his rapping style, poetry, and instrumental backing. He's not only one of the best doing it, but with Brick Body Kids Still Daydream, he feels necessary. steverie
supported by 275 fans who also own “Everything's Fine”
It's generating a huge response, scoring a total of 93 points in meta-critics. AllMusic described the album as "a record that has complex content but is easily and confidently delivered with lyrics and a combination of jazz throngs and exquisite rhythms," and NME gives it a perfect score of five, describing it as a completely flawless record. A record that doesn't always fall on this year's list of albums of 2018 released by many media outlets. jwsmusic