Cover art for Tha Message, Part I by RALI

Tha Message, Part I

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Tha Message, Part I Lyrics

As I choke on my flows I try to reach for the skies
I'm touching my toes... I'm so confused

In this industry full of lames
Who claim to pay their dues
It's only just a few that really do

See, you don't really have a clue
What it takes to make it here do you?

Blood spill in the streets, kids banging 'Soo-Woo'
So the top of the food chain is young black males
With tattoos, tools, gunshot wounds and crack rock scales
Glamorizing the real...

I guess ain't nothing wrong with that
'Till a mother see her son open-lunged

Little brother only seven, why he gotta tote a gun?
We surviving, but you think this shit is fun?
Nigga please...

You just a body made of ignorance
So your blood runs cold enough to chill a fish on a grill
Heart made of stone;
Miners couldn't drill through your veins made of pain and your skin made of sin
So when income comes, then the end comes
We begin at the the top of the mountain
My brothers climb

My head on my shoulders backwards
I run my race from behind
I guess that's why I'm behind;
Chatting with Father Time
But disowned by Mother Nature
So fuck her -- don't need no savior

I can't even tell the difference
Specifically, from the women who've been with me
To the critics who fill my vision with anger
It's lividly on my brain so
I'm just trying not to make a mess when I spill my soul on my paper

Feeling of hate, no love lost though...
My heart is a lock; don't want to break it
And even thought it's seizing my soul, I don't want to shake it
I'm motivated my anger, cause I don't want to waste it

I'm cultivated by changes... Dominated by anus
I'm devastated by pain but I'm radiated by danger
Educated by labor and elevated through haters
I'm aggravated by Satan, somebody's testing patience...
It must be these niggas acting like bitches, It must be
That's why I keep it real, so niggas can trust me
Niggas throwing up my name, all they do is discuss me
So I throw up on beats, cause niggas disgust me

Screaming, Fuck Me? Fuck I? Fuck you nigga!
I keep it realer than all of you booty loose niggas!
They just mad cause the flow hotter than goose mittens
They just mad cause the flow hotter than soup kitchens
Stool pigeons, Two centers; put your two cents in
The way you talk -- stupid, it's like your tooth's missing

You fake G's play macho
I'm headed for the top floor nigga
So don't worry about what I know
My hometown: Southside Chicago nigga
What's up?

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  1. Tha Message, Part I
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