In 1972 my mother was rushed from a James Brown concert

in order to give birth to me

my style is black hole

most niggas simply sound like earth to me

if hip hop were the moon i'd be the first to bleed

cyclical sacraments of self for all my peers to read

i recite the user night

??? the light for you to read by

have you floating on cloud nine without you realizing it's my mind's sky

and the ground on which you walk is the tounge with which i walk

i speak the seas, i root the trees of suburbia and new york

city streets can never claim me, that's why i never sound like you

all y'all niggas claim the streets as if paths through the woods aint true

you better walk the path, you better do the math

cuz your screw face will only make the buddah laugh

even if you know the lessons you don't know the half

but don't take it from me

son, take a bath

i can recite the grass on the hill and memorize the moon

i know the cloud forms of love by heart

and have brought tears to the eye of the storm

and my memory banks walk ??? forests and amazon river banks

and i scream them into sunsets that echo in earthquakes

shadows have been my spotlight as i monolouge the night

and dialouge with days

soliloquys of wind and breeze

applauded by sunrays

we put language in zoos to observe caged thought

and toss peanuts and p-funk at intellect

and motherfuckers think these are metaphors

i speak what i see

all words and worlds are metaphors of ME

my life was authored by the moon

footprints written in soil

the foutain pen of marshen men

novelling human toil

and yes, the soil speaks highly of me

but earth seeds root me poetry

and read forests forever t