Urban Song

This is what we should teach our Kids and let them grow with the Truth. [Hook: Nas + [Kids!] I know I can (I know I can!) Be what I wanna be (be what I wanna be!) If I work hard at it (If I work hard it!) I'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be!) [Verse 1] Be, B-Boys and girls, listen up You can be anything in the world, in God we trust An architect, doctor, maybe an actress But nothing comes easy, it takes much practice Like, I met a woman who's becoming a star She was very beautiful, leaving people in awe Singing songs, Lena Horne, but the younger version Hung with the wrong person Got her strung on that Heroin, cocaine, sniffing up drugs, all in her nose Could've died, so young, now, looks ugly and old No fun cause when she reaches for hugs, people hold their breath Cause she smells of corrosion and death Watch the company you keep and the crowd you bring Cause they came to do drugs and you came to sing So if you gonna be the best, I'mma tell you how P

Makaveli [Verse 1] Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice I say the darker the flesh then the deeper the roots I give a holla to my sisters on welfare 2Pac cares, if don't nobody else care And, I know they like to beat you down a lot When you come around the block, brothers clown a lot But please don't cry, dry your eyes, never let up Forgive but don't forget, girl, keep your head up And when he tells you you ain't nothin', don't believe him And if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him Cause sister, you don't need him And I ain't tryin' to gas ya up, I just call 'em how I see 'em You know what makes me unhappy When brothers make babies, and leave a young mother to be a pappy And since we all came from a woman Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman I wonder why we take from our women Why we rape our women, do we hate our women I think it's time to kill for our women Time to heal our women, be real

Why Thelastpoet  Writes That Way. Inspiration. [Verse 1: Immortal Technique] She was on her way to becoming a college graduate Wouldn't even stop to talk to the average kid The type of Latina I'd sit and contemplate marriage with Fuck the horse and carriage shit, her love was never for hire Disciplined, intellectual beauty's what I desire Flyer than Salma Hayek or Jennifer Lopez Everyone told me, kicking it to her was hopeless At first I just thought, she didn't mess with broke kids The thug niggas always talking about, how they smoke kids But the rich-sniff-coke kids got no play "I'm not even interested," is what her body language would say Everyone around the way, gave up trying to get in it It didn't matter how good your game was, she wasn't with it On the block, bitches was jealous, but wouldn't admit it Talk shit, and deny to everyone that they did it Cause they regretted the long list of niggas that they let hit it And no one ever gave th

You raised questions So I had to tell you this, whenever I pick a pen I write with ink, when I choose a pencil I don't blink, want to see the choice I don't  think at all the lines never go out of sync, just like a  love song I make the lyrics everywhere some say it is something we sing, no! we flow with the words just like a child on a swing, as for poetry; to us the words are ladies we flirt, fine lines they will always sound sweet, maybe a lady is the one telling this, replace the context so it may fit, Your thing. I wrote this in a rush it is so shoddy, take it you don have to copy, I do It often call it a hobby.