BUILDING BLUEPRINT
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Lyrical Analysis of...
R.I.P
- Verse 1: (Damon)
- Yo, kept a cold shoulder, the heatwaves a broken toaster,
- Our food doesn’t cook well, it froze over, mama in the street,
- She loved my bros, homies, me, KK, C, and all of them were
- My closet brothers, we just knew each other, I can spit fluid,
- Every time, the news is covered, my gramps dead,
- Everyone smiling, would do they that, if my body is piled with,
- All the bodies, incinerator, full blown disintegration,
- Willis in the ventilations, caught him by his back, a gat
- Blasted in his mental chamber, I feel like ripped up paper,
- Sick and dangerous, smoking angel dust, pops is the one,
- That is teaching me how to leave the streets, hate and lust,
- Hated them, life was bucket of cables, what, hazardous,
- Maybe some times, I can handle it, lost homies, shot died,
- Just from smoking cannabis, spit clever lines, rip every time,
- I get on the pen, send to the depths, to see all your friends,
- I don’t need no fall angels to “protect” me, I want my revenge,
- They were trying to get me, cracked their skulls, with Michael’s is
- Mentioned, they run to the deep, a mobb of descending, 6 9,
- A snitch phone’s will not live in centuries, if he was in my block,
- His chest would be spreading, bullets, one in the head,
- The rest in the leg, this deadlier Tech, I’m ready to wreck,
- Anybody who steps to me, this rap giant will end them 6 feet deep.
- Verse 2: (Damon)
- Gramps in hospice, stomach infection, rotting slow,
- Doctors said he’s leaving soon, but he’s still holding on,
- Told me stories ’bout the old days, when the streets had soul,
- Now it’s just ghosts whispering where the bullets took their toll.
- Lost KK last summer, corner store ambush, wrong place,
- Wrong time, wrong face, wrong race? Nah, just wrong city,
- This concrete jungle eats its young, ain’t that a pity?
- C got caught slippin’, vengeance mission turned him cold,
- Left his daughter fatherless, another story never told.
- The air thick with absence, heavy like lead in my chest,
- Every block a memorial, puttin’ loyalty to the test.
- Pops preachin’ peace while my fists clench ’neath the sleeves,
- Seein’ red every time a siren wails and grieves.
- This anger’s gasoline, waitin’ for a spark to ignite,
- Dream of quiet nights shattered by another gunfight.
- They took my brothers, left me standin’ in the bloody rain,
- Gramps fadin’ slow, amplifyin’ all this twisted pain.
- Is survival worth the cost when everybody you love is gone?
- Just echoes in these barren streets I’m walkin’ on.
- The hunger’s different now –not for food, but for the truth,
- Why the innocent get buried while the wicked stay aloof?
- My pen’s the scalpel, dissectin’ this disease they call the hood,
- Spillin’ ink like vital fluids, wishin’ somehow that I could
- Reverse the reaper’s visit, bring ’em back from the abyss,
- Instead, I spit these syllables, a melancholic twist
- On livin’ while surrounded by the ever present grave,
- Tryna find the strength my crumblin’ grandpa’s tryna save.
- This mic’s my weapon, my confession, my last fragile thread,
- Rappin’ ’bout the lost before I end up joinin’ ’em, dead.
- Verse 3: (Kalligraphy)
- This is for the faces we no longer have an image of
- Only thing left is their handprints on caves above
- My voice is Michelangelo personified
- Rest in peace D’angelo, the good ones fly high
- Like Capital Steez who jumped and became an angel
- For those left in disasters like what Cain did to Abel
- Just know our anatomy is a gift and not a fable
- “TIL eternity” is my favourite phrase to say
- To Shalhevet, Clementi, Angie, Jahvai
- Lives taken too soon, but to a better place
- Some afraid of what happens at the end of our days
- It’s what you make it, either your with or abandoned faith
- I know the universe has its ways, but I choose my own fate
- The Ghost of Christopher Wallace and Tupac Shakur
- Asata, Haile Selassie, Left Eye, Georges de la Tour
- All of them never forgotten, can you feel the allure?
- The music got me saved even before my conception
- Before I had direction, I was lost in the mentions
- Looking for the validation that can uplift my complexion
- But as I grew older and wisdom sits in my palms
- My arms raise the psalms to heal all the infections
- And that’s the blessin’, the sharpness of my thorns
- The way I was formed before the cosmos were born
- They say you die twice, I call it three these days
- You die, name is spoke last, the final remembrance of your face
- Luckily enough when we enter heavens gates
- And shake hands with Prodigy and Proof that day
- I can say we’ll never be left in the dust, that’s on my grave
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