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Song «Abandoned Language» von Dälek.
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Veröffentlichungsdaten: 2007 02 27 (Album)
Label: Ipecac IPC 084
Songwriter Dälek & Oktopus & Still
Produktion: Dälek & Oktopus & Still
Genre: Hip-Hop - Underground-Hip-Hop - Industrial-Hip-Hop
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Personen und Querverweise
Dälek
Dälek
Oktopus
Still
Dälek
Oktopus
Still
Lyrics
Abandoned language only when I thought my masses couldn't manage Wisdom gained with age is lost to page as adage So tragic, that average trajectory Incendiary thought and vast vocabulary makes none the less of savage A fist or full clip might be quick to split that cabbage This breath? It takes tactics Haven't quite mastered movements after three full decks What we seem to go through rarely ever makes sense From the scorching country fields to the heart of projects What we know of history's always marred in violence So I, Etch my own stone into tablets Never felt the need to live elaborate Fuck the pretty niggas with their rings and silk fabrics Need an ear to concrete to speak correct grammatics Heard same beauty in my noise where the rest heard static I've had it, Trying to explain this same formula Perfect paranoia Don't let me trust a soldier Thought we'd all understand now since we're older They pass manilla folders and 100,000 die They built the public schools with factory workers in their eyes Since we don't manufacture now they don't need men It's easier to start wars than it is to feed kids Damn we callous We kept off balance Kept off balance as I harness raw talents Said a million times prefer bullets to ballots Kept off balance Ideas are valid Ideas are valid They say I'd best whisper Ideas are valid They say I'd best whisper I say I'll keep a pen to pad and fingers on triggers Should i aim at own temple or several? Can't figure It's hard to focus, perhaps our last opus If younger heads quote this, then it ain't all hopeless I wrote this with intent to resurrect a John Carlos A Huey Newton, a Guevara in the midst Can't accept the struggle's dead when there's blood on our lips Positions shift but survival's all basic Ain't a fuckin' thing sacred nowadays kid Perhaps the racists ain't blatant but what's really changed? Our peoples been trained to live in tight cage The only thing we feel is mad rage The closest thing to bring a smile to parched lips slipped silent through arthritic grip A stoic life lasts instant A starved infant would best paint state of our conditions Populous with no ambition Content to tear at flesh formed somber progression So where's the lessons to digest within aggression? These filthy blocks are all immersed in raw tension Meanwhile you act like poverty was our invention The meek inherent what and when is my question I read your weak history text that never mention A solitary second of my people's true intentions Astute observations kept us mentally replenished Resumed rituals retold tales as heretic, within my speech lies the last of my heritage Hit headshots with higher average All caught in labyrinth, shine when I speak you can't handle it Chorus: Turn that page muthafucka cause our story's all scripted 600 years, ain't a fuckin' thing different Don't speak to us about strength and upliftment The closest thing to paradise is mad distant Mind's prism imprisons what light enters to ruin negative Reactions attract interest from factions that lack oral traditions In fact speech muted like Miles' horn Though humble my soul's torn Tempted to tell more Labeled a failure You fail to see my core Won't let you just ignore This fight's what we live for Fragile image ignites wrath of ancestors Revamped rhyme pattern gathers pulse from street wars I seek more Perhaps life's still atypical Experience has got me cynical Seen our best clipped at pinnacle Provide cyanide in form of capsule At times it seems my breath is just a hassle Masked men poised to kidnap for known ransom Ransack a stack of ill writtens Reduced to ramble Why's our inner streets left in shambles? I know a nigga's got to eat.... but do we got to play sambo? Suburban copies sloppily repeat what seen on airwaves Completely miss gist of dimly lit stairways How dare they make us trivial Made it seem we never counted My culture's demise was more literal than it sounded Theories well grounded, inevitably unearth skeletons of fellow men Pristine bones got bleached of their melanin While they teach mere scraps of tinged truth Corrupts youth Views constrict these pupils The useful made fools with eyes that blur proofs My manner's uncouth as they complete loop Kept the cyclical sense of this noose