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about

RIP my brother Nomzee Maxwell. Big up to the master teacher Dr. Phil Valentine.

lyrics

Just chilling doing nothing at all. And a dead friend could pop up and walks in your thoughts
You wanna talk, but something in the way that they’re gone was so wrong you keep shaking it cause facing its hard. We smoked laughed and joked after every scar don’t need Harvard to kill the pain, ain’t no puzzles involved we will it away knowing that the feeling will fade numb and metal hearted haunted while walking through flames
Body language guarded and camouflaged stalking the prey. Blend in with em until the ending and the targets in range.
Got em shooken looking like the Brooklyn Labor Day Parade. Watch em all boogie down the corner when this drum plays.
In space mixing tobacco with the natural haze looking back at the planet with a mathematical gaze. File a claim for battle, hijacking astral planes, wrestle with angels till they give me back the castles of Spain

Somewhere moving through the galaxy cruising through the waters above. Every borders an illusion. At the present a physical bandit, abandon the dunya put my portable past in my pocket and point to the future. Gully the booth-bully On Beat bring bruises my troops groomed for battle but they lackin acoustics they beat drums and blow shells like the Maroons did when heat comes we throw real jewels in the musical styles that slaughter each other for crying out loud. Winners get recorded these are the champion sounds. All Town either rap fell off or I’m lost now. It’s all false but what goes large must fall down by law. I don’t even know who we are now raps got all quiet but the weed got more loud!
I’m off the balcony and into the crowd cause if I was born to hang then I can’t drown.
Stamina found. Runner's stance, my hands on the ground, cancel the crowd, listening for that pistol to sound, I’m kicking now..”Drifting down the lane as he makes it round the last stretch coming for the finish and he takes the crown!”

You could take this side-ways, get over-it, or under-stand. Colic babies we been abused by Uncle Sam. Damned if we do. Damned if we don’t plan, damn. Who feels it knows. Who knows it innerstands.

credits

from SPEAK NO EVIL, released July 7, 1977

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all rights reserved

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about

Azeem New York

Co-Creator. A.K.A. 'Speak No Evil' Author of God's Rolex, Garage Opera, Craft Classic, E.T.C.
Film Maker- POSTERA vimeo.com/98339699

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