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it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.i woke up to it, heavy, alight with trueness always a way of losin', compelled to knew itmy body traveled, my mind waits behind the musicmy crime bemuses, "relax inside my shiny blueness."time: i understand it, but i never choose it i cant explain it with verbs, i have to do itthe shit by-came here on advantagewe automatic, don't try to plan itbut shit, just when it comes, handle itbehind the lessons, miles beneath the slick dressin'niggas is stressin'.'bout shit they should be sure, they're guessin'.i twirl it cool and peer the rear viewcause they are arrestin'.though rich in suit and chinese slipppers,Letras de cancionesi'm stil impressive up on the racksold school cap from way backgave'm my milk, cuz he now wipin' off (that's my impression.)he asked me, "how you float all sharp and always have a fresh one,and seem to know the answer to the most proverbial questions?"i told him, "why, i'm gonn' ask ya..."swirled it in a book of sketches--i find the diamonds underneath the subtlest inflections.ha aw, dude...the spicier the food: when you chew, fuck their rules.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.it's a Feeling.that's...that's...that's somethin' freshthat's somethin' freshnonetheless, nonethelessrhymin' in the Felt, in the Feltat a tender age we learned to turn the pageto mind the screen and stage, to see who got the glazeto hustle up or fadeeither get made or playfind your spot in the shade,and nigga get paid.so we internalize that, but then we customize thatride the relationship between where our ground and our sky's ati slowed it down once, everyone was goin' fastso? so i sped up, cause i ain't one to reach the end lastMORPHto where the grimy sparkles amongst the shiny talkersthe pistol poppers that made pretty noise and get them dollarsand while the world watches, we sent our street scholarsto bust some presidents in hundred thousand dollar watchessome of the feds got us--some of us dead--lied to us.still solid, thoughusin' all the licks the streets taught usand what that heat cost us, and what that loss gave usfuckin' with the people--it's always gonna come back around.it's bout to be big movements from belowthe golden age lies aheadstruck ghost: proceed.you can't lie to yourselfto yourself, you can't lie how it Feltno surprise how the cards gettin' dealt,that's why i won't be back for a long time. From Letras Mania