He the man's most of the one's who's unique A paragon placed in the land of the bleak Divorced from mistakes Galloping around on their ego while we talking regal over breaks They said: Mayday, Mayday We got these older rappers out here living good like it's still their heyday Health in the seasoning Grill diamonds for your third eye for stern reasoning Pride cultivation for your knees to bend A prayer heard for the closed eye How we still here? Only God knows why A smile on our heart With a legacy tatted up with legal issues still, we never tore apart Apart from that, you can find me clique-free Never loud, play it quiet like a clown Forever a proud man, B-plans weren't the same as the A So we attack the track no other way We honor the ghosts The holy ones who actions define the street signs that shine beneath the light posts To practice a pillow tattle for someone To babble your tea to others is not within our oath Place the letter D in front of the word art, throw it We end up on the walls 'cause the point sharp, know it Welcome to season nine, episode B, and ode to the three
Love, light I don't wanna get no older The breath of the world feels colder But within hard living, you can find God giving His light, love The truth can be heavier to lift up But the one who stands steady, not to give up Is the man who blows warmth in the palm of his hand
Listen, my name's not Charlie, but I'm a brown Skinned kid just walking around, praising God's gift And I never sniffed Charlie, but my lines are the lift Meaning rhymes will ascend while I'm so off the cliff Either make words that match or words that matter And weaved with a ladder climbing higher than your three-feet measure We are more than a chest with a treasure I'm do-or-dead like Stuyvesant-Bed Yet I'm from the county of Nassau, Long Island track long Live and let give life and when death is within sight I hope to be surrounded by my seeds Tell 'em to love one another Tell my son to treat a woman better than I treated his mother I was too undercover on the themes of excess Seem to get it right when I choose to lean and express Moms taught me better and I still failed the test And if she's watching from higher heights Her sight won't approve of certain moves in my manhood But the hood man is damn good at showing us shortcuts Left longevity, done with the fork stuff Now fighting over quick fixes of fame I've expanded And who will be the last man standing With the vast amount of plans in the palm of his hand?
Love, light I don't wanna get no older The breath of the world feels colder But within hard living, you can find God giving His light, love The truth can be heavier to lift up But the one who stands steady, not to give up Is the man who holds plans in the palm of his hand
Is the man who holds plans in the palm of his hand Is the man who holds plans in the palm of his hand
Traveling on a long road Traveling on a long road (sunshine, like eleven acres) Traveling on a long road (sunshine for sale, and then like another nine acres where it's nothing on it) We believe in Him, we believe Traveling on a long road (only five cents come get your sunshine) We believe in Him (there's so much su– so much sunshine I can't see anything)