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Run With It

by G8

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released October 26, 2006

Vocals - Toussaint Morrison
Guitar - Danny Kantar
Drums/Percussion - Owen Weaver
Upright Bass - Mark Drehmann
Keys - Brad Lemke
Saxophone - Chris Kaufmann
Trumpet - Adam Rossmiller
Trombone - Scott Agster



all rights reserved


G8 Minneapolis, Minnesota

An assembly of jazz elites and a national slam poet vocalist, G8 slated their name after the Group of 8 conference where the 8 richest countries gather together under a guise of unity, but more so to impose wealth as a determinate in changing the world. Here, the band G8 holds the mantra to change the world with music. Now defunct, the group left behind one piece of recorded legacy. ... more

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Track Name: Silence Is A Coward
Her eyes looked like night, but the sky said day
While we stared at each other in this odd little twisted way
I played it off like she had no control

Or effect on my stress and my blues & grays
Even though I’m a fool for games,

I wasn’t gonna let her get away lookin’ all cool and tame
With her words that she throws like pretty little knives
I gotta respond, return the favor likewise
Track Name: Where To
They say you got two good days before you're soon to break
And that ya feel it comin' before it already breaks
I give her room and space to let'er choose her ways
Not a finger pointin' who's to blame
But this situation needs a decision quick as a piston
Or fast enough for my patience to be efficient

So would ya listen, just for a second and close your eyes
It's easier to hear me out, blind to the hype
Put ya in the position of where you night's in the light
Clear, out in the open, like these rhymes that I write
The fight to fight dies as I sit and wait
On your verdict if this all isn't perfect so don't say

That your pain's like mine, it doesn't haunt you in your dreams like prey
You can escape in your social flames
Roll away, smile, have it all your way
But for now I think it's best that I keep at bay
With a pen for a thought, a blade for the knot
Water for the blood, a rock for the rope
Track Name: Social Debt
Never once have I walked without thinkin’ to dance
Never once have I talked withoutu thinkin’ to chant
Well represented by my skin’s complexion

On lock through good friends and connections
We push the fader to express the creative art form
We handle to hammer apart norms
Hardcore implies that the surface is soft
So we keep our centers balanced with the ground that we walk on
Sometimes I feel the city breathin’ through me sneakers
Whisperin’ a melody that we drop beats to
My love jones seeps in and drowns in the deep end
Of streets that separate me from the earth with cement
Some scream “hype on” meanwhile I write on
Through many dusks and dawns until the fight’s won
Until then this victory’s a mystery to me
On this journey takin’ in everything that isn’t me
Through pens, papers, guns, and streets
(Sometimes we conflict, but we agree with the beat)
Whether it’s then, now, war or peace
(We shoot different ammunition, but at the same dream)
So get ya aim right, brotha- get your aim right, yes
Get ya aim right, sista – get your aim right, yes
Get ya aim right, kid- get your aim right, yes
My bullet is my word and I make sure it hits
Never once have I biked without thinkin’ to biff
Never once have a I drank without thinkin’ to trip
What often shoots doesn’t often hit
I’ve watched sane and crazy both walk off the cliff
This ain’t a case’a sayin’ “hey it’s all good don’t worry”
While gunshots and money connect like Canterbury
It busied you to notice, orderin’ your peach cobbler dish
Stressed about your mazda’s dent
We don’t pick sides, we live where they plot the fence
Takin’ it normal authority has a common skin
Better save what you make before the option’s thin
It’s gonna take more space than the projects built
The hospitals, the Gaza Strip, and every square foot of Riverside Plaza, kid.
I throw down for tomorrow and I walk against
A globe spinnin’ off the axis tryin’ to profit with

Track Name: Something You Can Do
The dream is over, just when you thought that you were holdin' the last move to play and a smile creasin' open
Your sure thing hit like a first sting
Lookin' lost like culture in suburban third rings
The truth was outta tune and it wudn't worth to sing
When everybody's sayin' word, but they haven't heard a thing
My friend, the game was born to serve kings
And I play it cool like a quarterback sittin' third string

Wit' an iced stirred drink
You blew the plan celebratin' early
Now I gotta pull strings with the verb and word sling
Enough to make a cold woman turn spring
The dream is done, the evening's up
You should probably kill what you got left in your free cup
It's over now. Now is where it's endin'.
The bottom of the bottle's existence
Where nobody wants to be, and often wants to leave
But only get as far as almost
Settlin' for better off dead, waitin' 'til the end
Passin' the time dreamin' in a comatose
Leave with me now or stay here
Fade into the background sittin' in a chair
I wait until you first move, if it's somethin' you can do
And take the long walk back home
Known it always, but only sometimes
Two regrets for one crime
We pay dearly for dodgin' sunshine
But get to go out like the first bullet in a gunfight
W-well well, dust off the shelf
I played a close watch, low key and loose belt
It's the end, a place we didn't wanna get near
But now we're there like smoke up against thin air

Last I was here by choice. Took a taxi as far as it could get me
Then made the long walk like Moretti
It's not pretty, the end looks like the beginning
Same bar, different round, one less record spinnin'
Three drinks deeper into almost forgettin'
And the bass turned up until the needle starts skippin'
Live long enough in the dark and it'll be clear
Enough to ask the question, how did it get to...


Through the entrance I entered and kept it simple
No questions or gestures, I kept my momentum
Lead with the right shoulder, my hips turned sideways,
Maneuverin' and cuttin' through the crowd like a knife blade
This is the finish, I didn't want to visit
But had to to ask "is this how you wanna end it?"
Sittin' down, no smile to spare
Leave with me now or stay here

And die alone
Die alone
Dreamin' in a comatose
Dreamin' in a comatose
Leave with me
Leave with me
If it's somethin' you can do
Somethin' you can do
And not somethin' to prove

I can stand until this crowd is passed out
On the floor. Don't doubt I'll wait until it's awkward.
My stance is advanced enough to last and fight
Your spiteful silent war with no words
Don't doubt a cowboy with new boots and old spurs
I walk a fast pace with the same slow burn
You're starin' at the bar top, shiftin' in your stool
Glancin' at the clock on the wall every minute or two

Fade into the background, part of the party
Losin' your color, notes fallin' off the harmony
Hardly a spark, partially dark
Seems off beat over broken guitar strings
Stay here and die alone
And drown in a crowd of people that you'll never know
Or leave with me now and die slow
Painless past the point of almost
Stay here, die alone
And dream in a crowd of people that don't
Or leave with me now back home
Track Name: Cup With A Handle
When the dark blends with the night it makes the streets look gray
That humid wind blows and the trees start to sway
A fresh page as I breathe in that city sage
Second-hand smoke with a fresh air haze
Some sit 'n' write, some sit 'n' blaze
Cigarette smoke that tints the air glazed
I stir my drink that takes shades of brown beige
Filled with that liquid for my night phase

The remedy calmed from heat and intensity
While I'm just kickin' it with Pad & Penelope
On the balcony of the coffeehouse
Sometimes to find my way or to find my way out
And in and out an emotional weave
Always adjustin' my prescription so I can perceive
And understand then hopefully we can relate
Conversation over tea and a muffin on your plate
Do ya stay late awake into the nighttime
Sit back and just write lines
About things and what ya' feel like
Or just chill and think about life
Lay back upon a grassy hillside
A coffeehouse servin' at late night
Or out a window in the night sky
Losin' yourself below the moon and light
No- no- no, we don't sleep much down at Pandora's Cup
On the 2nd floor porch of this coffeehouse hut
Lookin' out from the balcony where I can see it all
Just an uptown village up against the wall
Scratchin' at the bricks, searchin' for ways to deconstruct the structure
Workin' off'a poverty and hunger
Meanwhile I hit the tip jar, grab my fill
Find a table and it's back into the midnight drill

Starin' at a page'a paper waitin' for a thought to spill
I got bars and a dramatic pause to kill
A true emcee can handle silence in the evenin'
And not jump at the chance to grab a mic when she sees it
Keeps even between speakin' and closely listenin' to another's speech
So that their flow is above and beneath it
I jump from the weekend's altitude
And dive into the sweet deep-end of the afternoon


Wipe the stars from your eyes and the clouds from your canvas
Walkin' under the sky more manic than Hamlet
Instinct tells ya not to settle for average
And ya still stress unsettled after ya have it
Combatant of the battle and war against itself
Sweatin' from the neck of your shirt down to your belt
I worry not of what not applies to me
As I flip off the cops and coffee break from society

My rival is my indecisiveness between coffeeshops and party houses
Desks and stained couches
My outfit: the anti-uniform shoutin'
While many stay conformed and backgrounded
I stay black-grounded to the roots up and down the busy avenues
Midnight to the afternoon, longitude to latitude
Sittin' with a notebook with only words to be
And if I have to do convey the frame and shape of what's my able state to

Track Name: 10:36pm
I’m in steady movement through the city’s grid
Similar to public transit busses and police bullets
Life or death dodge ball on this asphalt campus

Meet me under the staircase around 1 between classes
I’m avid and organized against all authority
No hallway monitor or principle could get a hold’a me
I speak my themes globally, bold prose and openly
Y’all cats is a similar style to Mokujin
Carbon copied, great plagarism
Never done dirt, but ya rock the gangster image
It’s not my place to say what is or what isn’t
A valid image of truth in this delusional system
But whoever, however, whenever starts talkin’ a heatwave
And gets the representin’ of rough streets in Green Bay
I gotta slap the sociology in their ignorant head
Take that ass to Flatbush, kid, and get your
Head checked hard enough you can see past the
Next step. Baby, walkin’ these streets ya get
Rest-less as the night gets colder,
I carry the burden like a backpack on my shoulders
So, express one love to the beat
And get bed rest. Not so quick to speak headin’ to the
Next keg. Yeah, we all get down,
But how low depends on what’s comin’ out of our mouths
I rock more phones than coke addict telemarketers
And handle the pen with the skilled hands of an old carpenter
My flow spills like a broken faucet, cold and honest
My hope’s soaked and cloaked in vomit
I’m a broken promise while my faith is in a state of unconsciousness
No signs of life, no responses
I give nothing to stay positive. My word is bond, kid.
Understand that and who the boss is

‘Cos it’s not me and sure as hell isn’t you
These buildings stand above us both to hold the truth of livin’ proof
That your life is only worth what ya fight for
And if you’re fightin’ for your penis envy then you’re no more than a mic whore
Hip-Hop prostitute, y’all cats see and ya follow it
Until ya hit the dead end of a hollow tip
Reality’ll turn your throwback to a red dress
And I’ma keep on marchin’ and singin’ ‘til your
I date the devil herself
Track Name: Front Porch
If you got somethin’ to prove, then that’s coo
I just hope it ain’t for your pride ‘cos I’ve made that move

(Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey) Don’t think I’m waitin’ for your silence to break
Girl, I got my own hell to raise
I’m in this simple situation with a girl that we call “just a thang”,
That I like to call “gray”
In-between what we won’t say and what we say- I mean I’m sayin’ what I’m sayin’,
but the fact that we don’t say all we think
Gots me thinkin’ “Awww Hell, what’s real?”
Walkin’ casual circles as if we’re gonna get somewhere
It’s confusin’ when we’re standin’ at this distance
Far enough that strings don’t get attached, but close enough to kiss
And I’m coo wit’ it if ya coo wit’ it,
But can’t see the point in bein’ subtle if they’re ain’t no truth in it
We can play this off only so long with whatever
Still tryin’ to get it together
Sittin’ on your front porch
Holdin’ a conversation that would soon get cut short
Talkin’ about the reason that we hold our hands for
I mentioned to be friends and then ya told me what for
Before I could respond, you shut ya front door
Tellin’ front door
Sittin’ on your front porch
Until ya shut your front door
Silence is a coward you think brave just for your sake
And there ain’t nothin’ I can say to cure the coward you’ve mistaked
No, I can’t just walk on and play like so and play for show
And I done heard that song composed before- composed for show
So we’re shades of gray waitin’ to fade away
Hopin’ the canvas that we painted someday has a frame
I don’t look back in shame, although I’d have to say
You know those thoughts on your mind when you’re half-awake?
They feel ideal, not like dreams
Or good ideas, just somethin’ ya feel
Like we should be.
Instead I’m just a fool for relivin’


If you got somethin’ to lose then don’t bring it with you
Come with what you came to use
(Hey, Hey, Hey, Hey) Don’t think that you’re the reason why I stress what I say
Girl, I still got May’s rent to pay
Since when did walkin’ away become a method of game
How you’ve descended so, and given condescension a name
I’d bend this walls enough,
but you’d rather murder than save
See it how ya want it to be seen
Push out your smile and leave at your own pace
Force feed your ego and persuade your false faith
Your smile only means to scream and disbelieve
And It’s not like I haven’t done the same
I’m just another guy that can’t figure out how to walkaway
I’m just sayin’ what I been tryin’ to say
Yeah, I’d like to spend the rest of the day

Track Name: When Tomorrow Is A Day Late
Still in love with yesterday
Standin’ on where I wait

Gonna catch this bus
And leave this place
Kill what I love
Just to see today
She has those eyes
And that sarcastic laugh
While all I got is this pen
And a black backpack
My threats to leave
Strike no key, chord, or chorus
Not tired of singin’ the song of a fool
I’m just tired of writin’ for them

Tired of writin’ for them
Tired of writin’ for them
Tired of writin’ for them
Tired of writin’ for them
Tired of writin’ for them
Tired of writin’ for them

So would you go if you never had to
Stay still standin’ and see your past through
If you could what you live for if without tomorrow’s wait
My love, I have to leave.

Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday
Goodbye yesterday

I’m gonna catch this bus
And leave this place
Track Name: From The Basement
There ain’t no hold
Or obstacle that could make our quest stop or fold
Now I ain’t tryin’ to boast or tell ya what’s garbage or gold

I just got questions at most
We get so low
It’s past below and can’t be touched by the status quo
Now don’t feel outcasted or asked to go
Let’s talk about it while we walk or roll
C’mon, it’s G8- the kids that think and bleed gray
With wanderin’ eyes that never ever see straight
Always conscious, analyzin’ their environment
Never have so many misrepresentations been inspirin’
The sound out loud is fire within
It can’t be explained like tryin’ to describe the wind
We like to think of ourselves as cool guys and gents
That go together like private-school ties and tims
Kind of a clash if ya ask Brad, Mike, or Chris
But, held together when I rhyme like this
Wrote it down watchin’ people dien’ to win
Spoke it out watchin’ people survivin’ to live
We’re throwin’ out the kitchen sink plus the dishes
Replacin’ the fridge and renovatin’ the kitchen
Got a new style, same sound, same message
And lettin’ that chill while I hit the cold coffee
The hip-hop, the crème de la crème
The underground of the undergroun, the us and them
Lost sight of the cause, now we fight amongst ourselves
And if somebody points it out, we raise hell
Became afraid’a change soon as we gave it a name
Focused on differences instead’a how were the same
My brown skin pronounces half a round trip
Born with an identity that I haven’t found yet
While the eight richest countries connect now and then
To discuss the rate at which the globe will spin
Occupyin’ the third world, the ghetto urban
Colonized the prize, but didn’t get the job done
I’m lurchin’ through the basement of house party antics
Kegstandin’, fashion, and dirty dancin’
Eight sub-heroes speakin’ through the speakers
Blastin’ even after the cops try and crash it
Call the coroner and tell’em keep the coffin

Might think it’s common to sleep that often
But good rest depends on the streets ya walkin’
Not much shut-eye the way your fleet keeps talkin’
Seekin’ profit, plans to flee the projects
Speakin’ nonsense, matchin’ needs for wants, kid
Not synonymous, but hey- feed your wants, kid
We’re gonna sit here and watch you lose
Every bit’a sanity tryin’ to keep your cool
I still make my bed on a broken rule list
I’m a bad example to tell ya what to do, kid
Nonetheless I seen smart run foolish
From feds to Franklin, rich kids gone stupid
Policemen fumin’, poor people confused
You might wind up havin’ to speak thru
A microphone with seven kids from the school of music
Rockin’ basements, keepin’ it movin’
Track Name: Over The Desk
Addressed with finesse when I stepped in the class
The TA marked me late, I said surely you jest
She responded “no, not at all” and smiled
I hit her with a grin and said I dig your style

Headed to a desk with my pencil and text
Spent the lecture writin’ on my hand and my wrist
Steared at her hard when I ran outta skin
Class dismissed, now baby let me begin
I stepped right to the left and approached like smoke
Balanced on two pumas, cooler than cool- see I was ice cold
Strollin’ down my row she let her eyes roll
When I stopped her train a thought like a typo
Excuse me, I know I’m undergrad
And ya mark me late whenver I get to class
But I’d like to kill the beef and bury the axe
And take ya out after the final exam
Say yes (yes)
It ain’t complex, it’s simple like common sense
So, say word (word)
Because the amount of ya style is more felt than heard
So, say yes (yes)
I got nothin’ to lose, so I make that move
Whether or not approved, I’m gonna state that truth
Of nothin’ on my conscious but to kick it with you
Paused in the moment, ridin’ on its spurs
Waitin’ for reply, waitin’ for a return
She packed her bags and paid me no concern
Until she hit me wit’ a grin sayin’ “After the semester
Ya got a chance maaaaaybe
Get ya time right if ya date me
Can’t trick a girl named Tracy”
Hun, ya got me- let me do it again
I ain’t caught up in the manhood of masculinity
I know I rock mics, but not for self-esteem
I’d get my time right, but this class is chemistry
I’m in it pass-fail, so don’t gimme no heat
Anything else, I would arrive to it early
Determined to take in the sunset’s eye that stirs me
I’ll take that chance and the wait just to find out if I’m worthy
And if your thoughts concern me
So many live in yesterday and focus on tomorrow
Express the height of happiness, but hold the deepest sorrow
Consumed in bravado with the shallow and the hollow
With no knowledge of the leader, but they continue to follow
My hunger used to be a glutton for McDonald’s
And gratification because the truth was hard to swallow
Staccato, the tempo couldn’t wallow
Until I eased up- eased up on the throttle
Lock tight, got my flow fresher than a bottled avocado
Spittin’ it with more juice than a souped Toronado
Or a deuce deuce hollow, this blues ensemble
Is eminent and almost as beautiful as Mayano
Possible and probable? No
My word is solid as the thickest of the stones
This crowd is vast and even more fast
And to find a way out I’m gonna need your hand
Track Name: Sidewalk To Somewhere
At 22 my momma says you got your whole life in front of you
But runnin’ from the truth and glancin’ back is all I wanna do
Not fond of movin’ if that movement isn’t in pursuit

Of somethin’ or someone somewhere
The avenues I’m usually passin’ through reflect the same faces
They’re just different shades of brown livin’ off workin’-class payment
The vision is limited to not much or not enough
When the only point of view you got is from your front porch
Feels like life’s on hold, but still in a hurry
My contacts are five-months old. I’m seein’ blurry.
Takin’ rejection from the apple of my iris
As the cellos and the violins in my theme music get silenced
I’m tryin’ to concentrate, but time is dancin’ like a promenade
Givin’ hints that she doesn’t even wanna be on this date
Searchin’ for a sense of resolution is my common fate
As I observe standin’ on the gates
(Walkin’ that cracked line between the street and curb)
On the gates
(Not so much black and white, but tints of gray)
On the gates
(Walkin’ that cracked line between the street and curb)
On the gates
(Not so much black and white, but tints of gray)
On the gates
So the sun decided to take the day off and watch the soaps
The sky got cold and threw on a gray hat and undercoat
Despite the lack of light, I hold my disappointed appetite
And let that gloomy overwhelmin’ feelin’ pass by
Nowadays I keep tight grip on both my eyes since
Losin’ track of my mind became a daily crisis
So to hell with irrational thoughts and egos I’ve lost it
I’m sure you can find’em both with the girl from the coffeeshop in her back pocket
I back off it, seein’ my confidence isn’t that often
Behind the wheel to jump up in discussions and land talkin’
I’m awkward, and my circumstances have bad posture
So me speakin’ p.c. is somethin’ I can’t offer
I’m only enough, and even that’s sayin’ too much
I packed an extra sandwich in case I get jumped for my school lunch
Gettin’ mistaken for cocky when I’m self-conscious
Worryin’ about everything from basic to complex
Feels like life’s on hold, but still in a hurry
My contacts are five-months old. I’m seein’ blurry.
Takin’ rejection from the apple of my iris
As the cellos and the violins in my theme music get silenced
They made a curtain call and took a bow and all was done
So why am I still livin’ the script handcuffed to act one
She’s gone, and there isn’t a verse that could remedy
The thoughts afloat swimmin’ in the ocean of my memory
It all comes down to the last thing on your mind
Before you go to sleep and it’s all you can see with closed eyes
The hindsight is painfully clear through these low tides
Her image breakin’ down my cool to a cold vibe
And if tomorrow looks too far away to get there
I know my crew’ll have my front, back, and both sides
And if I fall so far, the bottom starts to look clear
I know Danny’ll catch me by the hand in no time
Once again, here we are
Contortin’ our faces and actin’ like rockstars
Waitin’ on Owen to get back from the bar
(Ayo-yo-yo-yo-yo-here he is) As we piece together like a foreign car
Missin’ a few parts, but still could run the track
Crashed a few times movin’ forward while lookin’ back
Yeah, Mayano used to mean tomorrow, but now no longer
She sits with what refuses to exist or be a part of
You left standin’ on the fence, dancin’ on the wall
Starin’ at both sides assumin’ I belong to where I fall
But neither did I want. Just to hold your hand between
Both sidewalks in the middle of the street
The black and white, the handshakes and barfights
The middle fingers and smiles, the modern day apartheid
Couldn’t speak through the bars that separate
So I figured to send this while I was standin’ on the gates

Track Name: Deero
The coldest emcees know this
And keep their distance like ragin' homophobics
Rhymin' mindless babble and chatter like a spokesman
All freestyles and threats, but no notebook
These cats talk with the same likeness
As kids who hate on a style then turn around and bite it
Tryin' to tell me that my walk is misguided
And the battle that I'm battlin' isn't worth it to fight

Nowadays you're either in or out, up or down
Black or white, there ain't no in between

I been called a lost-cause-waste-of-good fire
Not worth tryin', openin', or headlinin'
So, I drop silence on top of whinin' while I'm rhymin'
Hit the track and start a riot. Shit talk, I wouldn't try it.
I slap titans, crap lightin', and flatten tires
Chew broken glass and spit it back in your iris
Spin the darkest charcoal into diamond
And still keep it black, like the Starr, Brooklyn's finest

Rollin' off my lips like a goodbye kiss
In the midst of your roses and bullets, I'm dodgin' both
Headed to the nearest open mic with my mouth closed
I like to keep an observant ear to the loud prose
Different viewpoints and opinions speakin' out those
Minds ya use half the time when ya shout poems
But every now and then I get doubtful

Down and out 'cos they do it for the clout, so
Predictable when your ego's hangin' out- uh
Zip- zip it up, I make the cut
Like your dad's Norelco when he hits a bump
Don't front, just take it back to the outro
Do-se-do to the beginnin' keep it down low
Observe the eminent ones rockin' it out cold
Shake ya foundation, front lawn, and your household
Track Name: Burn
Droppin' on the track like a bomb on Iraq
Blowin' up huts, kids, moms, dads, and housecats
I'm out, man- runnin' with the ins and outcasts
Quicker than a bullet or your Subaru Outback
Yeah, we're dien' young so we're breakin' it out fast
That's the motto, so either compete or get out ran
Now that we got your attention, don't pretend it's
Another group to make their bank accounts fat

And blow like a car bomb stashed under the dash of your Escalade
'Cos the deadline for the debt to pay was yesterday
Turn your gold & green into red & gray
Tryin' to get up off the curb and have a seat right next to fame
So they say, these days, hip-hop ain't even about skills
It's all top sales, TRL, and hot wheels
So tell me, baby, can ya band mix well and rock well
Does your DJ make beats and can your emcee talk-

Well, hell, shit's changed and it's strange to me
Ya stopped smashin' pumpkins and lost your rage against the machine
Now ya work for it eight hours a day, give it gasoline
And apply oil when the gears rattle and squeak
You're fast asleep wit' no alarm clock
And I'm gettin' the feelin' that it's all a human pawn shop
Watch it, while you're runnin' your mouth
G8's in the basement of the house and we're turnin' it out
We burn it down like this
And turn it out like this
We burn it down like this
And turn it out like this
Os and Xs, ego trips and questions
Squares and triangles, hopes, faith, and labels
I'm pushin' all the buttons, runnin' outta my senses
Frustrated with the game, controller cords are in tangles
Forgot the character I'm playin'- kinda like I'm lost
Except I recognize the time, place, date, and everyone
Familiar with the consequences of my actions
But still can't figure out what the fuck is goin' on

I'm the background of the background, in fact
I can't talk to women without an anxiety attack
Crackin' jokes and approachin' at inopportune moments
Mostly posted and rollin' solo and unnoticed
Stressed and tensed up, passin' up the next keg cup,
Breakfast and lunch just to hit my Mead textbook
Servin' up the fresh more than the chef's best cook
I sacrifice my pride to grab a pen and paint perspectives

"Where's the payback?" you're wonderin' in misdirection
'Cos the answer's soakin' up your present attention
Got your head shook, sayin' "Yes"
Convinced what's comin' off the page is dancin' right your perception
Go'head, try and get my confidence shook
Burn my wallet, closet, and whatever's in my textbook
Tell me daily who my ex-girlfriend blows a kiss to
And watch it get passed up on my quest kid

Track Name: Cold Queen
They say
She's a cold queen
who's murdered bold kings and said cold things
Freezes hearts
to death then goes and counts her gold rings
In her castle filled with ice,
strife, and spotlights that doesn't melt a drop on hot nights
It can't be cracked, broken, chopped or sliced
And that she cracks grins as she clutches her wand tight
to cast spells upon herself
that turns her heart into solid rock ice

On a college campus eeking out enough space
for her to fall into three social categories:
Prude, slut, or bitch
She doesn't comply with this, so they call her a cold queen

'Cos she does her own thing, doesn't treat sex like a weekend routine
And has the confidence and common sense to not put up with being treated like an object by the male populus
With a beauty as obvious as her mouth is honest to tell you you're on an ego-trip and you need to get the hell off it- Good Goddess
She stands out like the oddest with strength of the strongest
Gets more pissed than my mom gets, refuses to be modest for the sake'a bein' real...
And she's all up in my system like a bong hit.


Actually, that's complete bullshit.
I've never smoke anything in my life,
but after I met her and told all of my friends how cool she was-
and how someday I was gonna write a really really really great slam poem about her...
They coulda swore I was high.
My eyes soaked with courage pouring from her presence
saturated 'til this day, which is why I still address this message
In honor of such a bold woman who can even defy the sun when it gets jealous
And tries to call upon a tempest in efforts to wash away her bright, captivating, cloudless complexion
But it can't happen- she gots the muscle of Mount Everest


So she walks away unscathed
Throwin' on her black leather jacket over her broad shoulders that extend out like two cliffs
holdin' up her hair from swingin' like her two fists
whenever guys start grabbin' her and makin' sexual comments

And they still call'er a cold queen
And I know I can't relate
but I'm tryin' real hard to understand

If I ever hear anybody- ever call you a cold queen again
I'm gonna have to protest it,
Sayin' "Watch your mouth little boy,
she's a bold queen well respected like a street empress-
so you should show some respect, 'cos even the street lights on University Avenue are bowin' at her entrance"

If ya don't like her, it's because you don't know who you are
And she stands out because she knows who she is
And if ya don't like her, it's because you don't know who you are
And she stands out because she knows who she is

Proving true when it was said
Woman is the name of God
on all lips.
Track Name: An Anthem For Your Absence
Her eyes looked like night, but the sky said day
While we stared at each other in this odd little twisted way
I played it off like she had no control

Or effect on my stress and my blues & grays
Even though I’m a fool for games,
I wasn’t gonna let her get away lookin’ all cool and tame
With her words that she throws like pretty little knives
I gotta respond, return the favor likewise