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Testo Rare Portraits - Talib Kweli

Testo della canzone Rare Portraits (Talib Kweli), tratta dall'album Gravitas

Gravitas, light it up
Lighten it up, brighten it up, yeah
You want the grown step your bars up
You brag about the scrilla, them killers lighten your cars up
Welcome to the complete history
Of the one known as Talib Kweli
Such a blessing, I'm making the bread, leaven
Descendant of terra firma, I'm from the era of legend
Applying the mind science, you scared of the world ending
But men of spiritual essence be walking right into heaven
Ascending without the stairs, expressing without the fears
We diamonds, but our minds are corrupted just like De Beers
Unraveling minds, traveling through time, Langoliers
Standing with the flow like the man in the Gondolier
In the park of Washington Square, locks in my hair
Louder than the bullhorns, we was locking 'em there
Cops was prepared to lock us up, they were scared
Like tales from the dark side
Summer of the Central Park Five
1989 Was the number, the year that I started rhyming
From Brooklyn to Staten Island, them Decepticons was wilding
Music soothing but the imagery violent as bomb threats
Therapy for the prison industrial complex
Provided a context for Laquan with a TEC-9
In Brooklyn, Tek, I spit it the best so they had to respect mine
I did it to death, on my grind on a quest to get signed
Sort of like the Tribe would always suggest, you check the rhyme
In a tunnel with Puff Daddy, in front of the Buff Patty
Rolling with Hi-Tek in the MPV through the streets of the 'Natti
Before graduating to Caddies was carrying crates
Shout out to Flex all day doing records with John Forté
We was standing outside of Tower Devouring prey
Powerful display of bullet points
That would shower and spray the block
Way back in them salad days, these rappers was appetizers
I played it like I was David, I was tackling Goliath
Attacking them open mics 'til the victory was decisive
This life, it was so enticing, my surgery so precise
I would chop it like thin slices at parties, we politic
At the country club, lighting up dutches with Pac and B.I.G
At the crib was supernatural, battling back and forth
Back before Jean was in the Unsigned Hype in the back of The Source
Rest in peace to Allah, son, Shabba was like, "I don't call you son
'Cause you mine, I call you son 'cause you shine"
What's up, Ilyasah? This is OG Brooklyn shit
Not for imposters, pour out a shot of vodka for
Big L, Big Poppa
Or Big Pun, 2Pac, what?
Word, the jungle is too savage
Rap true master producing the new classic
This shit is too classic, explode a faker, the spinal tap
I started with the Rawkus Recordings, we brought the vinyl back
From Def Jux to Loaded Lux, I'm the underground king
Like I'm rolling with Bun, the vets know what's up
The flow is nuts, it's solid, I got the golden touch
Plus my iron sheek and I got the game in a cobra clutch
This the highest caliber, do the algebra
From Yasiin Bey to Jean Grey to Pharoahe Monch
Black Thought and Common, almost twenty years after the release
Of Soundbombing and it still sound timeless
I monotapped tour with the greatest
The Tribe called Quest and the De La's
Open for Jay-Z and Nas, who else could say this?
In Vegas with Tech N9ne getting faded before the gig
Only later to hit the RIO and hop on
The stage with Prince (true story)
Always knew the importance of great shows
Since 1992 I seen Ice Cube play Toads
Way cold, continue to pave the road
For the Kendricks and J. Coles, continue to stay gold
For making the way for Kanye to meetings with Mr. Harry Belafonte
All started on park benches with Donte
Predicting the future, so observant and clairvoyant
Out the frame, can't contain it, I'm painting a rare portrait



Credits
Writer(s): Talib Kweli, ? Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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