It's that
It's that
Northwest classic
Amharic accented
Slanging them cassettes since the days of the mix-tape
Raised in the 80's late
When crack came to reshape my inner-city landscape
And fate put this mic in my palms
I'm a rebel with a cause, a protector of the art
From the start I knew to follow my heart
Not what anybody thought
And fought my insecurities to rock the whole city
Southside to the CD
With rhymes and graffiti
For these crimes of existing I'm guilty and free
This music fills me
It's so filthy to be at home anywhere I roam now
Grown with my own style
I ain't got to profile or act hard for y'all
Just pause and reflect
Struggle, progress
Style, cause and effect
While critical and honest over beats and on the streets too
I love, work, don't sleep so my peeps can eat food
Stay true
Sound of the Puget
It's that 206 vintage
Beacon Hill b-boy, free flows infinite
I don't pose, no gimmicks
I don't know no limits
Put my whole soul in it
It's that Northwest classic
Sound of the Puget
It's that 206 vintage
Beacon Hill b-boy, free flows infinite
I don't pose, no gimmicks
I don't know no limits
Put my whole soul in it
It's that Northwest classic
It's that
It's that
Ho said a poet must learn how to lead an attack
And if the weapon isn't broke better leave it in tact
Any emcee who disagree we can meet in the back
Either come with your heat or we leave it at that
Because it's the big payback in the making
We craft the soundtrack for real revolutionaries in training
So fuck waiting for a special occasion
Even though we might be broke as hell we got currency in patience
Just babies man, we just babies born in the early '80's just lately getting grown
Maybe they'll call us crazy
The way we deviated from the path they created, by the way
This shit is all related, reading Soledad Brother
A fighter and a lover like my grandmother in the Philippine country side
Eight to five daily grind
85 wonder why war rages on between the other ten and five
So fuck staying fly
We tryna stay alive
Ain't tryna have our lives get swept by the tide of whatever they decide
Let's ride for ourselves
Don't expect to find it anywhere else
Come on y'all
Sound of the Puget
It's that 206 vintage
Beacon Hill b-boy, free flows infinite
I don't pose, no gimmicks
I don't know no limits
Put my whole soul in it
It's that Northwest classic
Sound of the Puget
It's that 206 vintage
Beacon Hill b-boy, free flows infinite
I don't pose, no gimmicks
I don't know no limits
Put my whole soul in it
It's that Northwest classic
It's that
It's that
From East Africa to the Philippines y'all
Belly of the beast bullets scream Babylon fall
I travel back, my ancestral habitat is suffering
We chant down colonialism over percussion and
Nothing can match the loving of a working hand
Stand ground with my folks from prison camps to rallies chant
Hand me down Balikbayan boxes for fam
Countryside guerrillas raising crops from the land
Yo, a real man can stand behind a liberated woman
Challenge every sexist notion in this world that we've been given
Check the power and the privilege, with all our contradictions
I know I got vision with enough sense to listen
Geo and GT
Griots who we be
B-town, West Seattle, Southside and CD
Exiled projectiles who's weapons are words
Brothers repping two continents but lost in a third