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Lupe Fiasco - Tetsuo & Youth Album Lyrics



Lupe Fiasco - Tetsuo & Youth Lyrics






Summer


[Instrumental]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Mural

We're all chemicals, vitamins and minerals
Vicodin with inner tubes, wrapped around the arm
To see the vein like a chicken on the barn
Top Cat chat, let's begin another yarn
That's flying saucer cheese, or is it chicken parm'
But roosters don't fly like boosters don't buy
So what powers cowards to get them to the top
Just to fall asleep listening to Bach?
The ribbon in the sky is the ribbon that I drop
Dribbling the eye across the prism of a clock
That lacks meaning, but racks up stacks of fat reading
They catch chief and wrapped up plants from trap dealings

Now what's a coffin with a scratched ceiling?
And what's the talking without the match feeling?
As buried living and cherry picking
Every linen from your berry system
Then proceed with the pack feeding
When I was young I had visions of another world
Sneaking looks at the porn stash of my brother HuRl
Incense smoke made vortices and other curls
Casting calls from porn films and ad space for rubber girls
I like my pancakes cut in swirls
Morrocan moles and undercover squirrels
I like cartoons, southern cities with large moons
Faith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art booms
Apologise for my weird mix
What taste like hot dogs and tear drips
And looks like pantomime and clear bricks
And smells like shotguns and deer piss
They on their hunt, kinda salty that I'm going hard
First part of a party, that I throw in parts
One minute you playing pool, next minute you throwing darts
But that's how you do with a party that you throw in bars
I run the Gambit like I'm throwing cards
From popular mechanics to overdosing hearts
Paint cold pictures like Nova Scotia landscapes
Nerd game make Mandelbrot sets when we handshake
A word game back up plan that can dam lakes
Backup the word play playin' at the man's states
Mean I can still be the man if the dam breaks
And when the man brakes I'm reflectious, what they can't face
My peers will still treat the mirror like it's a fan base
The unfettered veteran, the eagle feathered man of medicine
That hovers above cities like weather men
And maybe weather woman
Whatever better to tell ya weather comin'
I prefer girls to reign all over the world

And not rain like, rain man or rain like rain dance
Or rain like a slight chance of rain when it's raining
Or rein like deer slaves to Santa Claus sleigh man
But reign like Queens that reign over made man
And not Queen like Queen killer, rhapsody bohemian Queen
But Queen like white glove wave hand
And not wave hand like it's a heat wave
So you make a fan by waving your hand
I'm talking wave like you saying "hey"
Man, and not hay for horses and hoarse like you almost voiceless
You gotta treat your vocal chords like it's a fortress
And treat every single one of your words like reinforcements
And especially when you're recording
Cause that's the portion that's important
When I was reporting that I was poor
But now I'm more than
It's still hooker heels on my sugar hills and sweet spots
Crying shames, make margarita rims from cheap tops
Deep plots in floor, the ceiling windows for my peep pots
A little scene with the sickle swings to make the wheat drop
And a hundred words for them hummingbirds that like to eavesdrop
And fan out like peacocks with a parakeet that beat box
So the sun rise when the beat drops
And the sun dies when the beat stops...
Then it unties, then it relocks
Then it relapsed, then it detox
Then heat back like a heat pack
On his knee caps of the weak spot
Cause he want what we got, like yeah

Then forge poetry like a young honory Morrissey
Then spit it to the golden locks thots
Who like their porridge all watery
Not scorching nor sorbity
From the steel orbitings, sorcerer, sorcery
Coming down gorgeously, just like a Stacey Dash waterfall
A more torturing, a water boarding Barbie doll
A river of women like a Brazilian Carnival
Swimming in feminine bikinis made out of barbasol
Somebody give them the volleyballs
If you love her, don't ever send her to Mally Mall's
Homie if she lonely she might end up in Macauly's claws
Coming out the closet over goblets down at Madri Gras
The fame, champagne, walk of shame lobby call
My reposition was black condition of activism
Ammunition for abolition, missions attacking systems
But they not after listens, unless it's dropping on Activision
Are we apps or are we bodies filled with apparitions
Operating applications, stuck inside a Apple prison
Chicken hack and download updates that lack religion

Or are we more... than soil tainting, disloyal changelings
Preoccupied with boy and Goyle chasing
And foiling other's royal saintings?
I sit back and watch the world through the eye holes in my oil paintings
Uhhh!
Ain't nothin' to it but to do it
Unless you Virgin Mary, nothin' do it but the truest
Believe all that unless you Jewish
Life is not a dictionary, it's a thesaurus
And I feel like a missionary to a clitoris
The water bearer heir of traditions that I swear to never change
My chair position or conditions of my porridge
Submission for sedition against the religion of a chorus
Keep them golden weave thieves out the motherf*ckin' forest

As I perform a nerve storm
I prefer my pictures in word form
Bury the hatchet like how a bird born
As I paint cold pictures like Kool-Aid facing condensation
Having conversations with flavourful combinations
Slave to my concentration
So that's OJ The Juiceman meets OJ with two hands
And two gloves, that's too snug
To judge who was, who drew blood

And, Lupe look at all these toucans
In a cemetery full of tomahawkes
Giving middle fingers to the pigeons doing somersaults
Road runners don't fall off cliffs, they run across
Anomalies by the colonies flukes by the reservoir
Wildin' pursuers end up as poofs on the desert floor
Levitating youth so know the truth of where the fountain hides
Bucaraa Roof painting tunnels onto the mountain sides
A thousands parts a pound of heart an ounce of eyes
Announcing now the doubt in mouth pronounces a count of lies
Chocula Counts by the counts of 5, refrigerator roof full of animals and monsters
Incinerated shoes and the manual for contra
Assorted memories from my childhood
Absorbing energy from the wild woods
Electronic combat Konami sign contract
Chinese char killing cucarachas on contact
Chicago spread an aficionado
Efficient spitting bridging divisions is in Chicano
Who's the Boss? If isn't Alyssa Milano
Dudikoff, ninja mission into the Congo
Polarize envy of the older guys
Black obi, shinobi hittin' Kenno in the face with all my throwin' knives
Sub-zero guiding, hiding, riding in the pack as well
Sound village, Leaf village, wolf spirit, magic spells
Dodging rain and catching hail
Faces need samurais to catch the L
Special research vessels made for catching whales
Fillet-a-fish ships sea-shepherded peppered with extra sails
Rewrite history, liberty needs a better bell
Maybe hotter irons and carbon fibres that never fail
Smarter science mixed with a odd alliance of fairytale
Or maybe just a metal pail that you hit with a steel tools
To announce that you've had enough and dropping out of SEAL school
Just like trout jumping out they house to let they gills cool
Cuba-scuba couldn't take the temperature of my skill pool
I said it feels cool to kill fools
Slipping through the cracks like when you trying to grill gruel
Take no Viking water bottle and not following pill rules
Will have you off of the throttle when you should be modelin' chill mood
Roller skater maker or are you just cobblin' wheel shoes
Overweight taster of kings food that kills crews
Oblivious feather-weight baker who autographed cakes whenever his quill moves over your meal you
Simple as a Buddhist monk in a temple standing in some heel groove with the abbot, practising stillness
Real still till he realizes his realness
Defeat Samsara achieves nirvana and brilliance
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ALAIN MICHAEL HENRI MION, JAMAL JOHNSON, WASALU JACO
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Blur My Hands

[Guy Sebastian:]
From the floating death, to the fire of death
To a flower outside my grave and oh man
Were you just being polite with your hands?

Take time to learn me like court appointed attorneys
Restore the order, we either join or adjourning
Less you join I'm up performing the journey
In all earnest, I go so Bernie
Takes another nigga to turn me
Get it straight, I ain't late on states
I'm just sternly stating
How what I do, with grace takes another nigga to turn mean
My return means like blockbuster with a tick
And I ain't kind but I don't hit
So you starting at the end, that's the part where you begin
I skip the bullshit so we can start it where we win
Yeah, spoiler alert
I can hear you all saying "boy you're a jerk"
But it's cool though, know we gotta rule yo
Get in, then we win and do it all again, ho

[Hook - Guy Sebastian:]
From the floating death, to the fire of death
To a flower outside of my grave and oh man
Were you just being polite with your hands?
And it really means I'm number one, and you're a fan
Well that's cool, cause I think you're number one too
Yeah that's cool, cause I think you're number one too
Yeah that's cool, cause I think you're number one

Now me and words, we made a deal, that I'm gon' keep 'em real
And they show me their secrets, I can even cop a feel
Victorious, can't match wit, with warriors
I match wig with wits, similarly can't mix matchsticks with forests'
Only you can prevent what I do
Only due can prevent what's my view
I match matchsticks with wicks
Wicker man, take a sip of liquor and
Spit the lip off warriors
And spit flames, nigga get in the gang ahh

[Hook]

It's road rage, without a roll cage
Takes courage to run on these roadways
I know you like "no way", but I'm a full race
All so every soccer Terry Fox moulding, go ahead
Don't stop, go ahead
Sitting in your car, just listening to the bars
And there's traffic all around and you feel like falling down
And the music that I'm spewing out, enough to calm him down
'Fore you know you watch your car with your briefcase walkin' round
And them dollars from the budget that went to S1 Production
And Sebastian on the hook, like being dug by Michael Douglas
So don't start that walk through Echo Park
My life's a one-on-one and you caught up in the jam
Just show some love back to your number one fan

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Wasalu Jaco, Mark Landon, Larry Darnell Jr. Griffin, Dustin Miles Mclean
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Dots and Lines

[Hook x2:]
You look just like how I'ma be
Sacred geometry
In a line, in a line, in a line, in a line, in a line
Three angels in kind, on time, go straight, don't sign

With a platinum plaque
She like Robin, George, and Jack
The mind fears what the blinds hide
But I'm here on the blind side
Hanging up till the line dies
Then off the hook for the crimes try
Get awful looks from tribe tribe unlawful jux we can climb skies
That's Robin Hood, arrows of the rich'll steal
In Hollywood and featherweight I step by step let it escalate
Till you get it, we'll tell you if I hit it
When you make pie if you don't fidget
Xzibit Pimp My Ride exquisite
We G's coach us back if we die in business
My Lord is my chemist, my sword is some Khemet
Egyptian fonts and ankhs
Scottish write with Montblancs let us stomp
I walk as my father walk, master builder is what I thought

[Hook x2]

Yeah
Where the golden means, so the overseer gets overseen
And the over here's are the older things
Can see the bell but don't know the rings
The rings are not sounds, but circles
Wear these on your virtues
See through these circles just live Steve Urkel
Till it's all universal
And it harmonize and like the Porsche into the larger size
And it's dynamic in the high standard
So each degree has a part to price
See big worlds have little worlds that feed on their velocity
And little world have lesser worlds and so on to viscosity

[Hook x2]

The applause and patience of the laws in nature
Override lies and the laws of nations
Pilgrims bear witness at all the stations
Sun positions overcome traditions
Numbers govern our young religions
Dead levels making plum decisions
Perpendicular to the undivision
That's bad curricular to the unconditioned
Any love less than unconditional is so under Christian it's unrepentant
The physical part of my church emits the invisible arts of my work
To make gold from garbage is not the unchemical part of this map
But truth me told it's the pursuit of gold
That turns the goal of men into trash
The souls gold and they turning gold into cash
And your reflection is your connection to more collections of more directions and paths
If your reflection is a mask, then you're reflective of mass
To see yourself just look at me then split your reflection in half

[Hook x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JACK LONDON, SIMON MOREL, WASALU JACO
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Fall


[Instrumental]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Prisoner 1 and 2

[Prisoner 1]

Pre-paid collect call from [?], an inmate at [?] correctional center.
This call is subject to recording and monitoring
To accept charges, press 1
To refuse charges, press 2
If you would like to permanently block your number from receiving calls from this facility, press 6
For balance and rate quotes, press 7
[button press]
Thank you for using Securus. You may start the conversation now

[Fela Kuti:]
King... We are kings of African music, we are kings. Because music...is the king of all professions

No music

Mislaid plan make a mess made
Damnation, let's play hands and spades
That's without, a boycott and a sit-out
Afro-Black pick in with a fist out
From the "welcome home" to the kick out
Reach into a rabbit, pull a trick out
Preacher preaching to a faggot with his dick out
Hard times call for [?] time
Sick, sick, sick eyes from the nose pressure
Police snip, zip ties on the protesters
Six wives in the fry of a molester
Met him at a caviar bar out in Odessa
Dirty needles breaking all the old records
A hundred hoes, one shovel and some old treasure
[?] use thief as a gold tester
Finger rolls, finger waves, closet full of old leathers
Old sweaters, old boots, that's a whole suit for some cold weather
New sale, two L's and some old letters
Now he doing double life, while she lead a double life
Man, he need another wife
New approach might help a nigga bowl better
New hoes might help a nigga hold together
Or will the new lane lead em' to the same pen
And the hunger strike in em' to the same tin

[Hook:]
Love is looking over various errors
And hate is habitually accelerating terror
[?] I just wanna be collected when I call God damn
I don't wanna be accepted; not as all as I am
Visitor, visitor, prisoner, prisoner, land

Getting slammed from the protest, no food
Force fed him like OB with a nose tube
Visions say consult the yogi with the gold shoes
With the Rollie going bowling for the old school
I need more for the Michaels
That's a loss for the class, and a score for the rifles
Three hots and a cot, and some cops
Trying to find dinosaurs in the Bible
It's all quiet in the jail-house
Then they ride in to find the empty cells out
They was looking for the swords, they was looking for the swords
I'm just looking at they feet, cause I'm looking for the lord
Looking in the library, looking at the law
10 years deep, now I'm looking at the bar
Claim sovereignty, because I'm bunkin' with the morons
They degenerate, they ain't looking at the game
They just looking at the scores, they be putting on my books
Cause I'm looking at the stars, trade a shank for some crank
Now I'm looking at a war, BGF got the yard
AV got the kitchen snitches on PC
Eminem on a mission, but CO's got the prison
God got us all, God set us free
God is the key, but the guards got the doors

[Hook]

Punching on the glass, stare at some killer
Might f*ck him in the ass
Staff getting rigid, wasn't gonna take away the visits
Segregate niggas by theyself and make 'em stay with it
Wicked, swung the shank around on a mop string
They had to pull him out the cell with a SWAT Team
That's a cop team, they sent hella cops, to stop, the helicoptering
Man, he thought that he'd fly away, like a kite, take flight
Like a letter on a string, like propellers on a wing
But they can't find the key
They made electric chairs for his dying days
Last meals, no appeals for him to try and stay
On Death Row like Suge and the late Pac
Maybe he could dig a tunnel out of A Block
And wear gloves for the razor-wired gate top
Scared thugs going crazy in a caged box
Looking at the world through the TV
And they gone, rapping over beats from the tabletops
Ay! That's how it is in a police state
When your life is just a number and release date
When you're rehabilitated so correctly
And let's hope that's how you're living when you're set free

[Hook]

[Prisoner 2]

To accept charges, press 1
To refuse charges, press 2
If you would like to permanently block your number from receiving calls from this facility, press 6
For balance and rate quotes, press 7
[button press]
Thank you for using Securus. You may start the conversation now

[Ayesha Jaco:]
[?] of the new Jim Crow are [?] clansmen, [?], and court papers
Dreadlocks [?] to hang from his neck as new Jim Crow
Corporations feed him seeds yet unborn
He'll be captured by Mya[?], in a ruby-encrusted cage
I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and answers that I leave in empty pages to be written.
Where is your pen? The new Jim Crow

(The new Jim Crow) [x2]

They sell they souls
They sell their selves
They ain't twelve, they old
Niggas old as hell
Old as jail, old as cells
Sold so much salt, ain't no more salt on the shelves
You a prisoner too, you living here too
You just like us, til' your shift get through
You could look like us, you know shit get through
You should be in cuffs like us, you should get strike 2
You should get like life, you should get like woo!
You should get that twice! You should get refused
The open road, that's no parole, and no control
Over your own soul, so control, your own remote control, that your folks can hold

[Hook x2:]
You better watch these niggas (un garde)
If it was up to me, I would never unlock these niggas
Wouldn't rehabilitate, man, I would just box these niggas and throw away the key,
I'd throw away the key like the coast guard watching me
(I'd throw away the keys) [x3]

Better watch these niggas (un guarde)

5th year with the DOC
You can see what's CO see
Robocop opt his COP
3 hots and a C-O-T
Lived in a small town, his whole life
Never left like [?]
Either working at the prison, or it's no lights
In the system working with the pol-ice
In the prison stripping niggas for rights
Got a malice, on the other side of the bars
Watching niggas get smart, watching niggas get strong
Watching niggas get home, he jealous
But deep down he jealous
With each sweep down, he tell us
With each peep down, he help us
Wrong one gon' knock his ass out though
It's why he gotta lock all the niggas out for
Warden told the boy he better calm down
Step back from the brink and put the bomb down
But how the whole world in your palm sound?
It's why they treat niggas like shit
Writing raps to the taps, keep the face [?] on your knees cause these niggas might snap! [?]

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: MAURICE THOMAS, WASALU JACO
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Body Of Work

[Pre-Hook - Troi:]
Closet full of bones
Just don't try to put'em back together
(Try to put'em back together)
And I'll just bite my tongue
So wear it like a scarlet letter
(Wear it like a scarlet letter)

(I really loved you)
Quiet in the court for the courtship
Marriage of the dork and the gorgeous
Took her from the king of the corpses
He [?] off the wall of the fort with the horses
This is foretold, bojangles was tapping in morse code
At least to the mad man genius, tap top secrets and more gold
From the guts of the mother, [?] should move her undercover
With a $3,000 son she just want a lover
And somebody else that come and try and drug her
Take her off the grill, she done
Pills celebrating, "we won"
In the system of the women, never knew he had it in him
This condition when the world that they make him become
Cocaine and new high tech way smuggle whole things
From the control range that make radio heads with gold brains
Depart 84' Jags on gold chains
Developing niggas from a whole name
God is great, but it's snakes on my soul plane

[Pre-Hook]

[Hook - Troi:]
Anatomy (skin), will be the death of me
Anatomy (skin), that's just my anatomy
Anatomy (skin), will be the death of me

(Tell me what to do)
Limo to the limit, fill it till the brim get in it
You can't get it, if you gotta ask
In that case I want two masks
Bottom class, dollar cast
Poppin' tags, droppin' trash in shopping bags
Till Hakeem take our pocket cash
(Am I beautiful?)
Write it in lights, molly in the body of Christ
Drop me to the lobby from heights
Then over the threshold to redeem the doorway
Fourteen broads like the king of Norway
Fourteen broads having dreams of foreplay
Fourteen arm Shiva
If the government get it I'm a fool

[Pre-Hook]

[Hook]

Sanskrit dance on the page of the dead book
Don't leave the restroom with the left foot
Flags of Tibet, to bet, to bed, to death, flesh
Release the leash on a fast car
Feed on the keys, fall asleep in a Jaguar
The tip of thy sword is white
Am I night, am I black, am I light?
Have I been this?
Realize my begin when I find where my end this
Oedipus wrecks, mother f*cker this better than sex
Material potion the love of my martyr
Currency soaked in the blood of my father
(Will you cry for me?)
Sky burial, at the wind carry your, father
That I could
An anatomy, not of me, kntting me to it, nodding me to it
Eyes of the eye and others, watching me do it
Adapt in each rubik
Kubrick in plot and tone
Lots of bones, scolds to the top of the tone
Skim through it is just skin to it
You're so thin you see the sin through it

[Pre-Hook]


[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: WASALU JACO, JAVOHN JORDAN GRIFFIN, LARRY DARNELL JR. GRIFFIN, TROI ALEXANDRIA IRONS
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group






Little Death

Now bring it out
Like a finger in the back of your mouth
Cherubs and cerebellum, Tara at Sarah's wedding
Sam marrying Sam
Band pushed upon the finger of Sam's hairiest hand
If that sickens you, you a bigot
If it doesn't well then you wicked
Such is life
Odd as Egg McMuffins at night
No answers, so let us watch these dancers
Structure reformed gracefully being born
On the pallet of dark greys, concaves and spirals
Kaleidoscope into a Eiffel
It ripples then it tidals
Vacillates then it virals
Babylons then it Bibles and others
And tell me of the spinning mothers
And today's mathematics for beloved
And beasts' bellies covered like the cummerbunds of butlers

How was your day, can I make what you say
What I wanna hear, cause I want you here
The hell that we raised to the heavens do anything for
La petite mort, la petite mort

They keep the bottles just to make glass houses
Then climb up to the second floors and throw rocks out it
Then expect not a volley in reply
Some place vulnerable like prolly in the eye
What of the chicken? what is it missin', is it dry?
Did it die in some inhumane conditions so it didn't go relaxed
And attention from its demise pulled all of the flavor from the fat
And made it flat and rather lifeless
Well there's a place that has a stunning (?)
And more mercifully murdered Pisces
But barbaric are still the prices
It's rather niceless, apricot in dices and fromage slices
My son will call risotto rices
If and when he's left to his own devices, well
How is your memory?
Is it returning like a lemon tree
To bear bitter fruit of what you meant to me
Or was it slippin' like permission am I trippin' like Phil
I feel I'm grippin' but maybe the transmission
Still left out the life, also left out the will, grief
Will cheese never touch your teeth
Maybe like kosher beef
Is it real, is it real, is it real
Ha, hah!

How at the date can I make you my break
Cause I want you dear, ooh, I want you dear
The hell that we raised to the heavens make (?) for
Our petite mort, our petite mort

So glad you're back, but not glad at that you're glad
Where is the glamor in collapse?
Where in the shatter of the facts shoves one back to a pattern of stab wounds
Swoon ridden goons consumed and driven mad soon
The attended years slowly fills with baboons
That other monkey business
Where killers go free cause a junkie's a funky witness
Runny mascaras from the cunning mask wearers of death
Bygone errors, sittin' like two oil derricks
Separated by a sea of cooling num nums
Reminiscing of an every day playing hum drum
Where recognition went unnoticed
And then solidified till it was stoic
We should've been poets
Somewhere between amateurs and grandmasters of iambic pentameter

How are your chains, do they make you behave
Keep you over here, by your overseer
Fallen from grace down from heaven to memories (?)
La petite mort, la petite mort
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Nikki Jean, Wasalu Jaco, Larry D. Griffin, Javohn Jordan Griffin
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Bluewater Music Corp.






No Scratches

It's for the love
Cause we love you so much
Keep it real
I don't feel, feel love
You don't feel what I feel so
It all started out

See first they had patience
And the nigga had energy
But not weak, he finna leave
Petal to the metal, you finna speed
You remind me of, [?]
But off in the future, and what it's finna be
All your memories can become enemies
So let's intercede I know you in the seat
But let's get outta that

[Hook 1 - Nikki Jean & Lupe Fiasco:]
But then that patience turned to waiting
And then that waitin' turned to wasting my time, my time, my time
And then that wasting turned to hating
And then that hating got to racing
All around my mind, my mind, my mind

[Hook 2 - Nikki Jean & Lupe Fiasco:]
So before we hit a wall, heartbreak and it crashes
Just walk away no scratches

(See first they had patience)

But niggas start sick, niggas start gettin' ill
Niggas got cold feet, niggas start gettin' chills
Niggas start stayin' home cause niggas start gettin' bills
Buildin' up an immunity
Niggas stopped getting' hurt
Niggas relied on faith
Hopin' niggas get healed is hopeless nigga, get real
But ah, get back on the pill
We in it for the feel
But even winners can [?] patience

[Hook 1]

[Hook 2 x2]

(First we had patience)

Mini-Bar raided, in the indy car faded
500 miles, it's pretty far ain't it?
But it's a pretty car, ain't it?
Pretty hard painted
But pretty darn dangerous
But we ain't get the memo, hangin' out the window
They don't care no more
Tryna take his mini to a limo
Without a helmet then you can Thelma-it
Louis, Louise but we on the same thing
So I be James Dean
So your wreck and my wreck look like the same scene

[Hook 2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NIKKI JEAN, WASALU JACO, SIMON MOREL
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






Winter


[Instrumental]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Chopper

And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco

[Hook - Lupe Fiasco x2:]
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for a chopper

Background check for a chopper
Background check for a chopper
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Background check for a chopper
Medical card from Obama
Background check for a chopper
Background check for a chopper
Background check for a chopper

[Glasses Malone:]
I got my chopper full and my black tee, slide
My baby mama done f*cked up on her food stamps
That's three muscles recertified
I'm right, niggas be watching, they don't want these problems
When them bills due, niggas get ready cause no bullshit I'm buyin'
I'm a government baby, let me get my cheese, let me get my cheese
Got a Chevy trailer in my mama yard, sittin' on E's
I'm bout this fee, I'm bout this fee
Just know what's free
You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth so don't critique
Look at me nigga, just a young hood nigga tryna get this cake
I don't need to be givin' out how school gon' educate
Filet mignon for my food stamps I know mama credit quite good
So I'm out here with this dope money got a big body in my hood
Nigga you see it, better believe it, this what I'm bout
Got a trap house I be boomin' in, fiends in and out
Cut the J anyway it come nigga, section 8
See we straight, how much money I make
This block [?]

[Buk of Psychodrama:]
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Would tell you don't really want be the truth
Let me hit you back on my government phone
Still a hood nigga, whatcha want me to do?
We get a blunt and a joint out of [?]
Where I'm from we be actually hoopin' in Jordans
Five dollar white t-shirts and them loose cigarettes
Ain't nobody fit to do shit important
People really don't give no f*ck about nothing
Although they may smile and be cordial
Dealin' around with the wrong damn crowd
Then bring a frown to my friend [?] warn you
Background check for the chopper
[?] imposters
The murder rate ain't back down yet
[?]
To the nigga that was tryna say somethin'
Some people, listen, you could be predisposed or be preconditioned
Or speak with the preacher, been preaching be the person
To be some process in your progress or be the prevention
I just live my life and I don't stop grindin' until God tell me to
I get money, I ain't gotta sell my soul, ho, who the hell is you?
They say my kind ain't welcome everywhere, well I can deal with that
But those who pop they shit get the shit popped outta them it's still a fact
So mind your business and stay the f*ck outta mine
You'll shortly find that this is best for everyone involved
All in all [?]

[Hook x2]

[Trouble:]
Permit, don't need permission from a doctor
I been smokin' since a pre-teen toddler
I been servin' since a jit tryna dodge all the obstacles
My teachers all told me that were probable
Probable cause, no crack a never really had it
I was just a nigga in a high price whip
Yea, I'm just a nigga with an education brought up in the ghetto
Well you better have extension on the clip
Well beef comes around in the town more often than these bitches in motion
I got a yapper, five dollars, off the streets
Yea I'm told for protection more than anything
Don't test my devotion
My first amendment right, they violate it anytime we out smokin'
Chicago violence boostin' up but we just focussin' on other environments
[?] more fiends [?]
Apologize cause [?] promotin'
Chopper and my bitch they ain't kissin' light somebody up
You just tell them [?] who stole it
Rich gunplay, shit that's all they see that's all they know
Without it kinda hopeless
Said this is in '09 and still no medicare for grandma
I done said out their names and niggas still ain't wanna [?]
Lu probly tell me Trouble you gotta put the mack down
Feelin' these all in your background
Said this is in '09 and still no medicare for grandma
I done said out their names and niggas still ain't wanna [?]
Lu probly tell me Trouble you gotta put the mack down
Feelin' these all in your background

[Trae tha Truth:]
I used to run up in your crib with shit that go 'blaka
Nigga tryna brick my squad like I'm Waka
I don't want a single chain I can't rocka
[?] life is a bitch, can't stop her
Even if I could, I tell 'em I wouldn't knock her
Til the get the 6 and then swap her
Baby mama tax return, new dropper
I might wanna so sip that bitch like I'm [?]
All of my whips [?] bought a house
Food stamp, get flipped, what that water cost?
Yea I'm actin like a nigga that ain't never had shit
Filet Mignon the house
My little brother on his medical shit from that block street
Nigga health care insured by that guap
More ways than [?] to me [?]
Jackals playin' overseas with they yacht
Shit I probly be the same I find drama
Law's out lookin' for me like Osama
I don't wanna do no bid, yo honor
Still waitin' on my one phone call from Obama
Tell 'em I need the chopper
They tellin' me i'm a fellon
I beat the case and that's it
And I wasn't acquainted with him
But I'm tryna make it to Heaven
But they don't want me to make it
That's why the niggas be tellin' me
If I don't get the chopper I'mma probly run up inside them
They better gimme a answer, I'm tryna be cool
If I don't get it then everybody gon' fear it
Every week I'm finna make 'em repeat it like they in school
Bed blues, everybody open up somethin'
You can move all you want just not southern
It ain't no thinkin' I was playin' I am not frontin
The mentality of a goon, I am not stuntin

[Hook x2]

[Fam-Lay:]
Storm is gone now it's all clear
The road was long but we all here
[?] I don't care
2014 is our year
Big shout out to the whole streets
This goes out to all that knows me
All y'all pussy niggas, holies
Y'all play tough guys but call the police
Look I don't care, I don't share
I keep me a bad bitch around here
I send them choppers around there
When I'm somewhere sittin' in a lounge chair
Overseas, blowin' tree, blowin' green, throwin' B's
Livin' like life is supposed to be
And if you wanna see it all, nigga roll with me
To the top, couldn't stop, had a major deal but it wouldn't pop
Nigas hated on me but I wouldn't stop
And now life sweeter than a puddin' pop
Think so slick, come and get me dog
None of y'all niggas f*ckin' with me dog
Some of y'all niggas comin' with me dog
None of y'all niggas' boots fit me dog
You think an echo was y'all
You need to think tactical dog
We laughin' at y'all
While you thinking me and Lu [?]
Seein' this shit that keep goin' on
Then pick a different zone for your mobile homes
Store fingerprints on your mobile phone
When you sippin' that shit we keep blowin' on

[Billy Blue:]
I'm bout that, I'm bout that
That billy out in that driveway
Cost more than my house did
F*ck land, I'm fly today
First class if I fly
Credit card ain't mine
Don't know how I'm getitn' back
But in luxury I arrive
IPhone in my baby name
Long way from that chirp
Strip pole in my bedroom
But I'mma kill my daughter if she twerk
I'mma kill my daughter if she twerk
Miley Cyrus is that bullshit
But a rednecker can't judge
That for Billy Ray to have to deal with
Record deal, f*ck college
Missed out but no pyrex
My Harley got low milage
This white carpet in my project
30 guns in my section, none of the homies got [?]
My side bitch and she pregnant
I ain't claimin' shit but the game
I ain't claimin' shit but the game
I ain't claimin' shit but the game
And this one is mine, I don't trust his mama
So he don't got my name
[?]
Mirrors loose as my [?]
I ain't addicted to shit
My weed man on my speed dial

[Hook x2]

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop
AR-15 with collapsible stock
Picket [?] with a 3 point [?]
Wish 150 round magazine and a dot
FMJ's by the box, nigga
Got the same setup as the SWATs, nigga
Shouldn't find that surprising
Cause I bought the muthaf*cka from a cop
Ain't seen a lot of brown money as a shorty
Welfare baby can't afford me
Healthcare there, I ain't worried
Healthcare there, I ain't worried
Excuse me, as I repeat myself
Work twice as hard to complete myself
My opposition is not pretending
When I work twice as hard to defeat myself
F*ck being a hip hop purist
When I'm spendin' 50 thousand on Securus
At least it's a contradiction, you'll feel us
RIP to the homies but long live the killas
It's why I look at God kinda odd
Cause these are the cards that he deal us
[?] can't feel us, Medicare can't heal us
And the mamas can't stop us
And these choppers might kill us
Look these wild niggas in they eyes
In the video it's some niggas that done died
Looked the ghosts in the face and I cried
No Wu-Tang, just Lu gang when I ride
[?] sayin' free the guys like I'm dirty
With a clean record but I'm cursed
To make a half a million off a verse
Nigga, chop
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: ADAM KING FEENEY, DACOURY NATCHE, WASALU JACO, CHARLES PENNIMAN, NATHANIEL JOHNSON, JEFFERY ROBINSON, MARIEL ORR, FRAZIER THOMPSON, PEDRITHO DORSONNE
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG Rights Management






Deliver

Ay, thirty somethin' shots from the ghetto gun
All in the ears of the ghetto young
Some ghetto girls, some ghetto sons
Throwing rocks at the bus and other ghetto fun
I always wondered where the ghetto from
'Cause I'm from the ghetto, the never ghetto come
But you win if the bell of my ghetto rung
But if the ghetto lose, that mean a ghetto won
That's how they do the ghetto, that's how the ghetto done
They keep it, they never bring the ghetto none
We make the ghetto tick, we make the ghetto run
We make the ghetto sick, we make the ghetto dumb
These niggas off that ghetto beer
And that ghetto rum and that ghetto bass with my ghetto drums
And my ghetto words and these ghetto problems
Get ghetto sums, that's why

The pizza man don't come here no more
Too much dope
Too many niggas on the porch
So the pizza man don't approach (no, no, no)
Pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas on the block
Too many niggas gettin shot
So the pizza man don't stop (pow, pow, pow)
The pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas gettin robbed
Niggas don't wanna starve but
"Niggas ain't got no jobs, blah blah blah"
The pizza man don't come here no more
Deliver, deliver, deliver

Is it cause they're selling nicks out there all day
'Cause a prostitute sucking dick in the hallway
Little Caesar's never sendin' pizza out ya'll way
Papa Johns never get delivered where y'all stayed
The Ghetto was a physical manifestation of hate
And a place where ethnicity determines your placement
A place that defines your station
Remind you niggas your place is the basement
White people in the attic
Niggas selling dope, White people is the addicts
White folks act like they ain't show us how to traffic
All that dope to China, you don't call that trappin'?
Breaking Bad, learned that from a TV
So don't say its politics when you see me
When you gon' apologize for your CD
Nigga that don't match red and black to a GD

The pizza man don't come here no more
Too much dope
Too many niggas on the porch
So the pizza man don't approach (no, no, no)
Pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas on the block
Too many niggas gettin shot
So the pizza man don't stop (pow, pow, pow)
The pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas gettin robbed
Niggas don't wanna starve but
"Niggas ain't got no jobs, blah blah blah"
The pizza man don't come here no more
Deliver, deliver, deliver

Can I get delivered from the sin
And get a little slice of Heaven I can enter in again
Or maybe just imagine that I'm livin in a mansion
Or a palace and my pizza gets delivered in a Benz
Make a savior out of savage like they made it out of magic
So it take a nigga havoc and it make it into friends
You don't even need a salad, it don't make a nigga fatter
Actually take a nigga backwards and make a nigga thin
That's a deep dish
Chicago style get the peace stick
Homerunner hitter, I be drillin' on the weak pitch
Pay into the plate then I put it in your face
I'm a man, never bitin' on the hands that I eat with
No Giordano or Di Giorno
Homemade bull, they bring it to him like a toro
Throwing dough up in the air-bottom to the top
And shredder full of cheese smarter than a purple ninja turtle

The pizza man don't come here no more
Too much dope
Too many niggas on the porch
So the pizza man don't approach (no, no, no)
Pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas on the block
Too many niggas gettin shot
So the pizza man don't stop (pow, pow, pow)
The pizza man don't come here no more
Too many niggas gettin robbed
Niggas don't wanna starve but
"Niggas ain't got no jobs, blah blah blah"
The pizza man don't come here no more (here no more)
Deliver, deliver, deliver (no more, no no no no no no no)

So sad 'cause the pizza man don't follow with us no more
(No no no no no, no no no, ay, yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tyrone William Griffin Jr, Wasalu Jaco, P. Jones, Maurice Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Madonna

[Intro - Lupe Fiasco:]
Immaculate mother of the holy soul
On behalf of the overdose
We come to you uncomfortable in our ways
Please don't slam the door all in my face

[Verse 1 - Lupe Fiasco:]
Tried to go to church, church ain't work
Still want to kill niggas
Tried to go work, but work ain't work
Work ain't work for the feel nigga
Really make me feel like a field nigga
Make me feel worse, really tryna' chill
But inside I feel like a steel mill, nigga
And it's hard when these niggas steal mama
What, when you and God gotta mill still mama
Living off a meal deal mama
Can't stunt with them lil wheels mama
Need a real purse real heels mama
How dem liquors and them pills feel mama, lil mama

[Bridge 1 - Nikki Jean:]
No man shall prosper
Lord knows if I said it, it's gospel, lil mama
Madonna
No man shall prosper
Lord knows if I said it, it's gospel, your momma
Madonna

[Hook - Nikki Jean & Lupe Fiasco:]
No man shall touch this
Lord said nobody can f*ck with, your momma
Madonna

[Bridge 2 - Lupe Fiasco:]
I be just trying make it [x4]
They be just trying break us [x4]

[Verse 2 - Lupe Fiasco:]
White T on they shoulders
What drags em off through the streets
In the whip wit' they soldiers
Stations of the police
Trying to stick all this time to me
Trying to stick all these crimes to me
Could you just send a dime to me
Mama please send a sign to me
What's looking like life?
Is probation and a fine to me
Lawyer said I'd be alright
But I think that he lying to me
They really wanna throw those lines to me
Put me in a line, put the knives to me
Put me in the sky, put it to my side
Then push it inside of me

[Bridge 3 - Lupe Fiasco:]
Holy mother of the blessed soul
They don't love you there
They love you here
I love you like I'm Mexico
Say: (Santa Maria, Madre de Dios
Ruega por nosotros pecadores
Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte)
Amen

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3 - Lupe Fiasco:]
They sent them all to the slaughter
Baby mama, no father
He was hanging round them murderers
And them prostitutes and them robbers, yeah
Them dope fiends and that water, yeah
Wit' angel dust in they nostrils, yeah
They hit em up wit' that chopper
She was holdin' him, in her hands
Just like Stigmata, yeah
Said you gon' live here forever
Salvation and treasure
You gon' live here forever, yeah
Died like Ricky on his mama couch
Right there in his mama house
Only child, the holy mama's your mama now

[Hook x2]

[Outro - Lupe Fiasco (x2):]
Mama said my son never been no killer
Mama said my son never been no gangster
No drug dealer, no gang member
Mama said my son never been no trouble
Mama said my son never been no trouble
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NIKKI JEAN, DACOURY NATCHE, WASALU JACO
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






Adoration Of The Magi

You're so smart
You're like, a contemporary museum of art
That farts, that's harsh
Narcissism, on narcotics
On sharp objects in large pockets
At dark, you ain't gotta hide it
Keep it, metal gear solid
Lead the leaders, that's how you file it
Then clobber it
Low on energy, find peach cobbler then gobble it
Yeah, it's food in them drums and boxes
If you beat 'em up then they'll drop it
And they'll rapidly flicker till they disappear
Blinking gradually quickens till they isn't here
And that's da da da da da da da...
Just to be back in
Reincarnated, exact twin
Exact ten, exact twelve
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba...
Exact self
Do I really gotta say it?
Didn't we all play it?
Dojo, Abobo
Overshore the throat, polo
Billy, Jimmy
Even on the low low

[Hook:]
Why you ready to die? You just a baby
Why them tears up under your eyes? You just a baby
Keep your head up in the sky, you just a baby
Quit chasing money, never mind, you just a baby
(These Maji adore you) [x2]
Why you wanna be born again? You just a baby
Why you playing in the streets? You just a baby

Now let's vogue, Martin pose
Downward facing dog, warrior pose
Tree pose, bridge pose
Triangle pose, seated twist (pose, pose)
Upward facing dog (pose, pose)
Pigeon pose
In this bitch, that's vulgar, that's yoga
Let's try it again with clothes
And closer, enclosure, exposures
Quiet is kept like Rosicrucian meet koza nostras on Oprah's sofa
With both controllers
Watchin' Gazans and ashkenazis ride roller coasters
Say yeah
Yeah, lots of options, now up is down, two player
Now A is jump and B is punch
You seein' somethin' that weren't there
To find friendliness in a nemesis, it's a old test
3 buttons, see somethin'
That's emphasis on genesis

[Hook]

Can't be eyes closed when you side scroll
You not the first person
The first person from your first cursin'
To your first cursive
And your curse words is in the curve version
It occurs virgin is the word version
That refers perfect to the first person
In the third verse, who's really me
In the third person but prefers the first one, that's me
Again
Master cleanse and a syringe
From a gerber until your first burger
Pamper to her depends
Everything between is just drawers
Even in between is no loss
Even where the king is no boss
Meet it with a swing it's so south
Unless you Bamm Bamm
Knocking them pitches into the grand stands
In the club, watching the women just do them hand stands
Like you a man's man
That's washing down a ham with the Zam Zam
Who got a baby in here with these strippers?
She's two weeks pregnant
Didn't even know, he's dancing with her, damn...

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DACOURY NATCHE, WASALU JACO
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group






They.Resurrect.Over.New

Dark matter with the sparks scattered up above
Velvet hands in the upper glove, touch
Like bad double dutch
And two Amsterdam's ain't enough, d.r.u.g.s;
"Don't ruin us, God said", #DROGAS
Too much pride we electric slide, we should be closer
Like soda, nothin' changed but a chola
I see the sun then the clouds then the vultures
Pay respects in my sensei's sculpture
High as the angel on the Dikembe's shoulder
Eyes looking like MKUltra
We deck the vision through these dark shades
Bad dreams through the screens of an arcade
Hangin' on the joy like the residues of heartbreak
Park full of art, arteries full of parquet
'Bedient like new games, easily defeating
Or two gangs meeting for the evening
Or two feet on a Riesling, slow wind
Meditate to the slow mind
Decorate me with shine till I go blind
BDSM dominated it with no bind
Safe word is don't stop, both or don't go no times

[Refrain:]
Proceed to the next level
(Tron)
Proceed to the next level
(Tron)

Coolest, tulips, flowers, fall from the towers
Like galls from Galileo to lay low
Ignorance that the world isn't ours, the God
Give them all showers
Toni found the fountain of youth, in the mountain of power
To only find truth in the fountain, drowning in power
Surrounded with dollars
The moon surrounds us like spoons moving chowder
Cut, that's a mis-direct to stir the soul with dis-effect
Names don't last like Mr. X
Unless you Galilee dropping bowling balls on the discotheque
With a disco ball hanging 'round your neck
Dance, it's a new year
Every time I open my hands
Thoughts moving circles and the thoughts universal
Yokozuna's don't throw salt in a circle
Sumo you up off off your turf boy
Tsunami you up off your surfboard
[?] Medusa in the go
'Fore Versace turned words into turquoise
Medusa turned coke into stone
With a hand on her thigh, she looked me in the eye and said
Proceed to the next level

[Hook - Troi:]
Sounds so far, seems so much
(Tron)
I cannot settle for good enough
So I'll sweat and I'll climb until I reach my prime
(Proceed to the next level)
The forces rise and fall again
Throw it up, will I reach the end
In my eyes, there's a fire and it takes me high

[Ab-Soul:]
Uh
Soulo!
Shoot for the moon, even if you miss you'll be among the stars (space)
Backstroke in my pool of thought but don't mind the sharks (wavy)
Ab-solar system intergalactic soldier
Lupe say I'ma stoner, I say that I'm much bolder
Trapped in a game where the trap is the game
Scope this horror, aquarius's make it rain here
No love for your honor, only God can judge us
If you're Islamic, Allah, I've had enough to my collar
With these niggas castin' stones like this Mancala
Proceed to the next level, dig that with a platinum shovel
Black magic, matter of fact, if matter is fact
A matter factory is in the making perhaps
Uh, erase your database
We race against time, no time to set a date
Tattuo and youth induced
Too cool for school, unloose the noose and

[Refrain]

[Troi:]
With
Next level, next floor
I'm ready for it
I've been waiting all my life
Tron, Tron
We're going up, we're going up
Next level, next floor
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: DACOURY NATCHE, WASALU JACO, TROI IRONS, MICHAEL TUCKER
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, CYPMP






Spring


[Instrumental]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher






Back to: Lupe Fiasco


Tetsuo & Youth is the fifth studio album by American rapper Lupe Fiasco. The album was released on January 20, 2015, by 1st & 15th Entertainment and Atlantic Records.

Tetsuo & Youth was supported by the lead single, "Deliver". The album received generally positive reviews from critics, citing it as a significant improvement and return to form in comparison to Fiasco's previous work. It debuted at number 14 on the US Billboard 200, selling 42,000 copies in its first week.
Performed By: Lupe Fiasco
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 78:43
Released: January 20th, 2015
Year: 2015

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