Song: My Life
Year: 2019
Viewed: 37 - Published at: 3 years ago

[Verse 1]

Silent decisions, Tupac-isms, a rapping general
Facing cyphers like Afeni facing federal
My heavy eyelids adorned with emeralds and petals rose
Playground crack vials, drug schedules and social codes
All in my skin cells, coating the bud swells of my tongue
I spit their lack of taste, “Bonita—green—Apple Bum”
Collecting jewels and flavors, cleansing palates from toxins
My music ginger-ing inners, aloe-ing up the options
I was an artist overthinking, audience famished
Will you hear my voice
"Catfish" with thе glow and talent?
These agеnts love pleas, hiding keys and popping shit
I’m trapped in my dreams like to wake is a process
Man all I ever wanted was peace in my skin
More steel in my vertebrae, income coming in
Flow spasms, orgasms, swipes unlimited
Create toast cinnamon, bread-yolk-and grilling it
Culinary with the wavy spice, soaked melanin
And provoke many men, insert bar 'bout 50 Cent
You can 'Bank' on my 'Buck' that my 'Tony’s' pelican
But the hell I’m heaven in, is an end and beginning
To my life
[Hook]

(If you look at my life, and see what I’ve seen)
Weapons stacked poetic, license to kill shit
In the name of all that didn’t kill me
They can’t speak for me

(If you look at my life, and see what I’ve seen)
Highways with lined lanes, exits I need change
Braving roads that ain’t paved for me
They can’t speak for we

(My life, my life, my life, my life, in the sunshine
Everybody loves the sunshine…)

[Verse 2]

Hunger, stressing, timely blessings
Noisy poison, quiet deception
You can’t tell me nada, Nathan
About how I can’t levitate this
D’Angelo, David Blaine
“Voodoo” magic in my veins
Recipes I do exchange
Out of darkness, litty waves
Niggas better check their English, kiss the rings
Before they try to come for persons, places, things
Niggas put an adjective to verbs with speed
I’m from a violence that God decreed
And you don’t know about shit about a woman, dog
All we know is blood and pain and after-thoughts
And all you know is numb and drugs and alcohol
And trying to figure self-care or sabotage, nigga
Niggas can’t figure, pics that’s bigger
When they can’t use a finger, to touch that trigger
Learning my philosophies
From niggas who burn trees
With hard knock degrees and contradicting seeds
Talking about my life, you box me in
Telling me that I’m just like her, them and him
Nigga I understand association
But we’re made for the transcendent
Wait, wait hold up!
I’m getting way too close to my quota
Too many spiritual bars they done told her
When you gonna sell some sex?
Or quote Malcolm X? Or get milky breasts?
Or designer dress? Or get viral press?
Or deteriorate from the mental stress?
So you could see me and say that I look a mess?
Or take my words out of context and transgress
I ain’t pressed

( Emma Lee M.C. )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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