Lyrical Gunplay

Begin
Demystify the mummy within
If you ain’t hotep then ho step, I’ll step to your friend
Parable of the wind
Blew black through to the end
Endless night, kicks and fights against time and her friends
Slowly day and night blend
Twilight takes form and then
Open sky sprouts an eye: solo, singular, sin
Downward glance, upward grin
Half the women are men
Children born of the morn grow until daylight’s end
Children born of the wind
Take the night as their friend
Starlit sky, many-eyed wonder of the within
Fear: original sin
Death: nowhere near the end
Once upon break o’dawn’s early Lyte: Paper Thin
Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
And all my children who run 'way
And beware of the lyrical gunplay
The corner coroner
I smoke for weeks
Dead Pan, like dead man, through chimney peaks
I streak the skyline
I blew through bird
High notes. I space float. I’m lost for words
The storefront preacher
The Sunday best
The dangling cross between legs, on chest
The country farmer
The hoedown champ
The rhythmic armor. The cosmic dance
The buck and gully
The native son
Bigger and Deffer. The freshest one
The sewed-in creases
The flavored twills
The confidence snorted through dollar bills
The «Fuck I care for?»
The boldface lie
The been there and done that. The do or die
The dirty dirty
The filthy clean
Thugged out and nerdy. No in between
Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
And all my children who run 'way
And beware of the lyrical gunplay
The blackest berry
The sweetest juice
That complex NGH born of simple truth
The solar/polar
The chosen side
The black face mammy of the bluest eye
The battered woman
The dream deferred
Now caught up and paid in full, that’s my word
The jungle brother
The sly and stone
Rock hard, NGH. Give a dog a bone
The marrow’s marrow
The newest breed
The headline merger between word and deed
The search for balance
A quest for peace
A tribe called NGH. NGH WHT, the chief
The distant lover
The close-up clown
The iced-out grill with the screw-face frown
A wealth of violence
A violent wealth
You caught up, NGH, better watch your health
Now where my hoes and my pimps at?
I dosie-do heel-toe 'fore I lean back
And all my children who run 'way
And beware of the lyrical gunplay
The beat is dope though
The junkie nod
The use of breakbeats to beat the odds
The odds are even
I paper rocks
Rocks smash scissors. NGHs trigger Glocks
The blackend target
The dick-long chain
NGHs kill NGHs in Jesus' name