Slurred Emotions

Check Your ID

3-20-08

There's always gonna be one fool who wants to buy cigarettes. Always bring your identification, kid. Always check your name at the door.

Big rock shout to my reals-
'cuz we need this-
no matter where my beats go;
         (on the one-two let's go)
we keep it as people.
Don't forget your past
or where it's from.
Even if ya moved around
or then some.

Nothin' wrong with the beats, Beat Poets and those that don't even know they own it. Let 'em show it. Checks unleft get wrecked.

These are wrecks ad infinitum
left for the perpetrators of numb,
sick, complacent
         critics of the young
who want to hear their words sung.
Don't forget your past
or what you thought you'd make last
because without us
you would've never withstood
         our genoblast.

Don't interfere with what we clear up in here. It's what we do. It's why we're cool. Check your ID at the door kid. Check your ID.

These words I get true on
and if I was Cuban
they'd call me Infidel Castro
based on all my life's been into,
         yo.
So take it like you hear it
or think it.
It's not what you think,
nor does it taste like you drink.

Say what you want because you'll always think what you will. Hate it for what you hate that isn't like you. If you love this, say it and prove it. And if you don't, table table it...

check your ID
...check your ID
...check your ID kid...
check your motherfuckin' ID
         and get real with me
         ...and get real with me...
Check please table table...
         get real.