Tekster: Lucky Boys Confusion. Growing Out Of It. Gwendolyn B. Sings Sin.

Counting heads as I enter the room

Straight check the ration, but it's cool, it's cool

I'll be kicking rhymes in a self-fulfilling state

Until the consequence fades away

A shout out to my lady, Gwendolyn Brooks

She kicks the poetry, I add the hooks

We're here together to send a message

That not too much has changed, bring it in

Word, I grip the microphone, pass from the left

I want the bass up so I can feel it in my chest

Dig this accusation, not a brand new thought

Just to finer point in life that can't be taught

I got to focus on my attention on the real thing

Never realizing till it passes what it is, what it could be

Janis says get it while you can and this is true

Cause it may not be tomorrow but we die soon

We die soon

I'm gonna tell it to, gonna set it straight


So I can pass it on to you, watch it circulate, formulate

Rhymes, ideas, like a lit J

Passed around, found people got vices these days

You can shoot H in the veins or popping pills

But on the microphone I'm executing mad skills

I can spot a hundred thousand ways to avoid, avoid the truth

Because it may not be tomorrow but we die soon

Cruising listening to smooth jazz

Realizing lost my passion pazzazz for life

I'm under pressure and I'm not sure

But it looks like Lady Death is gonna come at her own leisure

Live it up, give it up, life's unpredictable

Gotta make sure not a second is dull

The throw down, the show down at high noon

It may not be this minute we die soon, lid

---------- Krier, Pandav