Black on Both Sides - Melopeias

Track 1 – Fear Not Of Man

Melopeia: O Hip-Hop somos todos nós. Porque o Hip-Hop é o que quer que aquilo que um dos seus autores (potencialmente, somos todos autores) decida ser. O Rock nunca poderemos ser nós; a música clássica nunca poderá ser nossa; a música eletrónica, o pop, o indie, nada depende tanto e tão inteiramente de nós quanto o Hip-Hop. Profundamente democrático, profundamente livre – cada um poderá pegar no instrumental mais popular on-line e ainda assim destacar-se pela sua unicidade; ou poderá talhar um instrumental à sua medida, e ainda assim revelar a sua total inaptidão à cultura, à música, às rimas; à vida. Criada, cultivada e colhida pelas populações historicamente mais violentadas e marginalizadas, mais do que uma forma de emancipação económica, é uma questão de emancipação pessoal. Encontrar o Hip-Hop é uma questão de se encontrar a si mesmo.

“Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen
And I'm very happy that you came here
Ooh-oooh, whee!
That was for Brooklyn
Ha ha, we get it every time
You got me on? Oh
Shout out to all of my crew, East-West, North-South
All the continent, Europe, all abroad international
Bring it in, bring it in, bring it in, bring it in
It's a lot of things goin' on y'all
21st century is comin'
20th century almost done
A lot of things have changed
A lot of things have not, mainly us
We gon' get it together right? I believe that
Listen—people be askin' me all the time
"Yo Mos, what's gettin' ready to happen with hip-hop?"
(Where do you think hip-hop is goin'?)
I tell em, "You know what's gonna happen with hip-hop?
Whatever's happening with us"
If we smoked out, hip-hop is gonna be smoked out
If we doin' alright, hip-hop is gonna be doin' alright
People talk about hip-hop like it's some giant livin' in the hillside
Comin' down to visit the townspeople
We are hip-hop
Me, you, everybody, we are hip-hop
So hip-hop is going where we going
So the next time you ask yourself where hip-hop is going
Ask yourself: where am I going? How am I doing?
Till you get a clear idea
So if hip-hop is about the people
And the hip-hop won't get better until the people get better
Then how do people get better? (Hmm)
Well, from my understanding people get better
When they start to understand that they are valuable
And they not valuable because they got a whole lot of money
Or 'cause somebody, think they sexy
But they valuable 'cause they been created by God
And God makes you valuable
And whether or not you recognize that value is one thing
You got a lot of societies and governments
Tryin' to be God, wishing that they were God
They wanna create satellites and cameras everywhere
And make you think they got the all-seeing eye
Eh, I guess The Last Poets wasn't too far off
When they said that certain people got a god complex
I believe it's true
I don't get phased out by none of that, none of that
Helicopters, the TV screens, the newscasters, the satellite dishes
They just wishing
They can't really never do that
When they tell me to fear they law
When they tell me to try to have some fret in my heart behind the things that they do
This is what I think in my mind
And this is what I say to them
And this is what I'm saying to you check it

All over the world hearts pound with the rhythm
Fear not of men because men must die
Mind over matter and soul before flesh
Angels hold a pen, keep a record in time
Which is passing and running like a caravan trader
The world is overrun with the wealthy and the wicked
But God is sufficient in disposing of affairs
Gunmen and stockholders try to merit my fear
But God is sufficient over plans they prepared
Mos Def in the flesh, where you at, right here
On this place called Earth, holding down my square

'Bout to do it for y'all, and y'all at the fair
So just bounce, come on bounce
B-b-bounce b-bounce b-bounce-bounce
And just-
Just step, two, three
Just step, two, three, and
Step two
Two, three and
One two three and four
One two three and four
Once again

All over the world hearts pound with the rhythm
Fear not of men because men must die
Mind over matter and soul before flesh
Angels hold a pen, keep a record in time
Which is passing and running like a caravan trader
The world is overrun with the wealthy and the wicked
But God is sufficient in disposing of affairs
Gunmen and stockholders try to merit your fear
But God is sufficient over plans they prepared
Mos Def in the flesh, where you at, right here
On this place called Earth, holding down my square

Bout to represent in your whole atmosphere
Bout to represent in your whole atmosphere
To your atmosphere, to your atmosphere
Oh-ooh!
That was for you—and Brooklyn, too!”

Track 2 – Hip Hop

Melopeia: Porque o Hip-Hop só será bom quando se é verdadeiro consigo mesmo. E é essa verdade que o estilo exige (um estilo exige sempre algo de nós, não musicalmente falando) que é imensuravelmente bonita. E é essa verdade que é politicamente perigosa. Que sempre incomodou o poder. Os 16 versos que tenho poderei usá-los para falar sobre mulheres, dinheiro e carros. Mas também poderei usá-los para pintar o quadro do racismo institucional e da vida marginalizada a que estou sujeito. Mais do que por poder ser uma arma política, o Hip-Hop incomoda porque pode ser o que quer que o artista queira – porque quer uma quer outra maneira de usar os meus 16 versos, se as fizer de forma suficientemente boa, terei um espaço igualmente reconhecido na comunidade. Que semelhança poderá haver entre Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Playboy Carti, Mac Miller, Yasiin Bey, Eminem, Wu-Tang Clan, Public Enemy, A Tribe Called Quest, e outros? Absolutamente nenhuma. A não ser o facto de que todos foram (são) verdadeiros consigo mesmos. 

O Hip-Hop somos todos nós. E eles têm medo disso.

“You say, "one for the treble, two for the time"
Come on, y'all, let's rock this!
You say, "one for the treble, two for the time"
Come on! Speech is my hammer, bang the world into shape
Now let it fall, huh!

My restlessness is my nemesis
It's hard to really chill and sit still, committed to page
I write a rhyme, sometimes won't finish for days
Scrutinize my literature from the large to the miniature
I mathematically add-minister, subtract the wack
Selector, wheel it back, I'm feeling that
Ahaha, from the core to the perimeter black
You know the motto, stay fluid even in staccato (Mos Def)
Full-blooded, full throttle
Breathe deep inside the drum hollow... There's the hum
Young man, where you from? Brooklyn number one!
Native son, speaking in the native tongue
I got my eyes on tomorrow (There it is)
While you still tryin to find where it is
I'm on the Ave where it lives and dies, violently but silently
Shine so vibrantly that eyes squint to catch a glimpse
Embrace the bass with my dark ink fingertips
Used to speak the King's En-ga-lish
But caught a rash on my lips, so now my chat just like dis
Long range from the base-line (swish)
Move like an apparition, low to the ground with ammunition
(Chi-chi-pow) Move from the gate, voice cued
On your tape, putting food on your plate
Many crews can relate, who choosing your fate (yo)
We went from picking cotton
To chain gang line chopping, to Be-Bopping, to Hip-Hopping
Blues people got the blue chip stock option
Invisible man, got the whole world watching
(Where ya at?) I'm high, low, east, west, all over your map
I'm getting big props, with this thing called hip hop
Where you can either get paid or get shot
When your product in stock, the fair-weather friends flock
When your chart position drop, then the phone calls....
Chill for a minute, let's see who else hot, snatch your shelf spot
Don't gas yourself, akh'
The industry just a better built cell block
A long way from the shell tops
And the bells that L rocked (rock, rock, rock, rock...)

The more emotion I put into it, the harder I rock

Hip Hop is prosecution evidence
An out of court settlement, ad space for liquor
Sick without benefits (hungh!) Luxury tenements
Choking the skyline, it's low life getting tree-top high
It is a back water remedy
Bitter and tender memory, a class E felony
Facing the death penalty (hungh!)
Stimulant and sedative, original repetitive
Violently competitive, a school unaccredited
The break beats you get broken with on time and inappropriate
Hip Hop went from selling crack to smoking it
Medicine for loneliness remind me of Thelonius and Dizzy
Propers to B-Boys getting busy
The war-time snap shot, the working man's jack-pot
A two dollar snack box sold beneath the crack spot
Olympic sponsor of the black Glock
Gold medalist in the back shot
From the sovereign state of the have-nots
Where farmers have trouble with cash crops (woooo)
It's all-city like Phase 2
Hip Hop will simply amaze you, praise you, pay you
Do whatever you say do, but, black, it can't save you”

Track 3 – Love

Melopeia: E por isso associam o Hip-Hop à violência organizada, aos gangues, à delinquência, ao crime, a eles, aos negros. Mas não há outra coisa na base do Hip-Hop que não amor. Em todas as suas formas.

Discrimi-nação – qualquer Estado sabe o que precisou para se erguer, as palavras não são inofensivas. Não, as palavras não são inofensivas. Mas eles não gostam quando são os de baixo a fazer das palavras o que eles querem – e por isso vamos para a televisão dizer de boca cheia que é o Hip-Hop a causa da criminalidade juvenil; vamos fazer sala para os Observatórios das Seguranças, das Criminalidades e dos Terrorismos dizer que isto da violência que é tão antiga quanto as nossas instituições (pergunto-me se esse curioso facto não será mais que coincidência) é culpa da arte. Mas não todo o tipo de arte – só um em específico; só aquele que não se conforma com os moldes antigos e tradicionais; só aquele que se pretende desprender dos impensados mumificados. Ninguém sabe se no meio dos devaneios do experimentalismo alguma das suas criações será o rebento de um novo amanhã – e para isso há o pesticida da biopolítica.

“They say that goodness in life belongs to those who believe:
So, I believe. Yes

I start to think and then I sink
Into the paper, like I was ink
When I'm writing, I'm trapped in between the lines
I escape, when I finish the rhyme
I start to think and then I sink
Into the paper, like I was ink
When I'm writing, I'm trapped in between the lines
I escape, when I finish

My pop said he was in love when he made me
Thought about it for a second wasn't hard to see
I could hear he was sincere, wasn't game or promotion
The entire affair's probably charged with emotion
When love call your heart I guess you got to pursue
12-11-73, my life is testament
Praise the beneficent, element that breath
Devoid in the form that make love manifest
I spent my early years in Roosevelt Projects
It was a bright valley with some dark prospects
In '83, Vendy C was the host with the most
I listened to the Rap Attack and held the radio close
I listened to the Rap Attack and held the radio close
This is far before the days of high glamour and pose
Aiyo, power from the streetlight made the place dark
I know a few understand what I'm talking about
It was love for the thing that made me wanna stay out
It was love for the thing that made me stay in the house
Spending time, writing rhymes
Trying to find words that describe the vibe
That's inside the space
When you close your eyes and screw your face
Is this the pain of too much tenderness?
To make me nod my head in reverence?
Should I visit this place in remembrance?
Or build landmarks here as evidence?
Nighttime, spirit shook my temperament
To write rhymes that portray this sentiment
We live the now for the promise of the infinite
We live the now for the promise of the infinite
And we believe in the promise
(Love, love, love, love, love
Love, love, love, love, love)
Yes, yes, y'all, and we don't stop because

I start to think, and then I sink
Into the paper, like I was ink
When I'm writing, I'm trapped in between the lines
I escape, when I finish the rhyme

I got love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e to emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e, I emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e to emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
(Love, Love) The M-O-S D-E-Finitely

Check it out, y'all (Uh), feel me out, y'all (Say what)
Feel me out, y'all (yeah), hear me out, y'all (Get down)
Check me, out, y'all (Uh, get down, get down)
Feel me out, y'all (Down, down), check it out, y'all
Now hear out (Bounce), y'all
Check me out, y'all (Uh), feel me out, y'all (All around the world)
Check me out, y'all, feel me out, y'all
Feel me out, y'all (Hear me bounce, y'all, get down)
Check me out, y'all, check it out, y'all

My folks said they was in love when they made me
I take the love they made me with to make rhymes and beats
(Can you feel?) The raw deal is all-wheel driven (right)
Contemplate the essence of beats, rhymes and livin'
Speech align with the rhythm (right), designed with the rhythm
Ears and eyes keep in good time with the rhythm
I shine with the rhythm, the Black Star Galactica
You're big number fatin', we ancient like the abacus
After us, I see most proceed to be trees
Sprouting leaves, givin' breeze to the we who believe
I M.C., which means I Must Cultivate the Earth
Straight back, straight facts, heartbeats and hard work
I be the "Funky Drummer" to soften the hard Earth
(Amin) Pray Allah keep my soul and heart clean
(Amin) Pray the same thing again for all my team
From Restoration to Fort Greene, and on out to Queens
Uptown To Boogie-down, yo, just look around
Shook up the world like Ali in 6-3 (right)
I'm reaching a height that you said cannot be
I'm bringing a light which you said we can't see
Saw the new day comin', it look just like me
Sun bursts through the clouds, my photo ID
I bring light to your day and raise your degree
The universal magnetic, you must respect it
From end to beginning; bright, true and living
Ever-changing but sustaining magnificent
Building the now for the promise of the infinite
Building the now for the promise of the infinite
Because...

I start to think, and then I sink
Into the paper, like I was ink
When I'm writing, I'm trapped in between the lines
I escape, when I finish the rhyme

I got love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e to emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e, to emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
Love, l-o-v-e to emcee
Get love, l-o-v-e and I be
(Love, Love) The M-O-S D-E-Finitely

Check it out, y'all”

Track 4 – Ms. Fat Booty

Melopeia: Entre o espaçamento da dor, quem impedir que o Outro traceje o seu caminho com linhas franzinas de felicidade será sempre cúmplice da desumanidade que o primeiro criou. E não é preciso muito — da mesma forma que não é preciso muito para almofadar a espinhosidade da tristeza. A roupa, o cabelo, o sotaque, a música, a diferença.

Migalhas que muitos de nós recusamos em tolerar. Ainda não saímos da sombra do primeiro que carregou a traço grosso a dor do Outro.

“I know I can't afford to stop
For one moment, that it's too soon to forget
I know I can't afford to stop
For one moment, that it's too soon to forget

Man, duke, I was in love with this girl, duke
I was tore up, dog, I'm tellin' you, man
Shit is wild, man, for real
It's, she's from, let me tell you about her

Yo, in she came with the same type game
The type of girl givin' out the fake cellphone and name
Big fame, she like cats with big things
Jewels chipped, money clip, phone flip, the six range
I seen her on the Ave., spotted her more than once
Ass so fat that you could see it from the front
She spot me like paparazzi, shot me a glance
In that Catwoman stance with the fat booty pants, hot damn!
What's your name, love? Where you came from?
Neck and wrist laced up, very little make-up
The Schwinns at the Reebok gym tone your frame up
Is sugar and spice the only thing that you made of?
I tried to play it low key, but couldn't keep it down
Asked her to dance and she was like, "Yo, I'm leavin' now"
An hour later, sounds from Jamaica
She's sippin' Cris' straight up, skankin', windin' her waist up
Scene 2 — my fam's throwin' a jam
Fareed is on the stand, big things is in the plans
The brother Big Mu makes space for me to move
"A-yo, this my man Mos, baby, let me introduce"
I turned around (Say word!)
You was the same pretty bird who I had priorly observed
Tryin' to play me for the herb (Yeah, that's her)
Shocked as hell she couldn't get it together
I just played along and pretended I never met her
How you feelin'? "Oh, I'm fine", my name is Mos "I'm Sharice"
I heard so much good about you, it's nice to finally meet
We moved to the booth reserved for crew especially
And honey love ended up sittin' directly next to me
I'm type polite, but now I'm lookin' at her skeptically
'Cause baby girl got all the right weaponry
Designer fabric, shoes and accessories
Chinky eyes, sweet voice is fuckin' with me mentally
We conversated, made her laugh — yeah, you know me, bro
Even though I know the steelo, she wild sweet, yo
I'm 'bout to murk, I say peace to the family
She hop up like, "How you gon' leave before you dance with me?"

I know I can't afford to stop
For one moment, that it's too soon to forget
I know I can't afford to stop
For one moment, that it's too soon to forget

She blew my whole head with that, duke, I was like, word?
I played it low though
I was like, yeah, aight, come on then, let's go
Niggas was mad, niggas was so sick, I tell (ya)
Yo, honey was so blazin', she was just..
Yo, she looked like Jayne Kennedy, word bond, to my mother, man
She was that ill, man
She take me to the dance floor and she start whisperin' to me..

"Yo, let me apologize for the other night, I know it wasn't right
But baby, you know what it's like, some brothers don't be comin' right"
I understand, I'm feelin' you
Besides, "Can I have a dance?" ain't really that original
We laughed about it, traced her arms across my shoulder blades
They playin' Lovers Rock, I got the folded fingers on her waist
Heatin' my blood up like the Arizona summer
Song finished then she whispered, "Honey, let's exchange numbers"
Scene 3 — weeks of datin', late night conversation
In the crib, heart racin', tryin' to be cool and patient
She touched on my eyelids, the room fell silent
She walked away smilin', singin' Gregory Isaacs
Like, "If I don't, if I don't have you"
Showin' me her tan line and her tattoo
Playin' Sade, Sweetest Taboo
Burnin' candles, all my other plans got cancelled
Man, I smashed it like a Idaho potato
She call me at my J.O., "Come now", I can't say no
Ginseng tree trunks, rockin' the P-funk
Cockin' her knees up, champion lover, not ease up
Three months — she call, I feel I'm runnin' a fever
Six months — I'm tellin' her I desperately need her
Nine months — flu-like symptoms when shorty not around
I need more than to knock it down, I'm really tryin' to lock it down
Midnight, we hook up and go at it
Burn a stoge and let her know, sweetheart, I got to have it
She tellin' me commitment is somethin' she can't manage
Wake up the next mornin', she gone like it was magic
Aww, damn it! My shit is on Harrison Ford Frantic
My 911's unanswered by my fly Taurus enchantress
Next week, Mu hit me up, I saw Sharice at the Kittie club
With some bangin' ass Asian playin' lay it down and lick me up
What!?”

Track 5 – Speed Law

Melopeia: Intencionalmente deixado em branco.

“(Watch it) Relax, pump the brakes
You're speeding, money
You'll smash your whole shit up (slow down)
Lights be changing fast on these streets, money, slow down
(Slow down) Sleeping on the wrong cats

Clear like a megaphone
Pretty nigga heart skipped the metronome
Rocked the Trump Tower to the terrordome
Poor house to pleasure domes
Soprano, alto, tenor to baritone
Mos Def; one of the illest that you ever known
Rock steady baby, you a stepping stone
Smash your foundation into pebbles
My words leave your nerves unsettled
You take it to the next level down
Looking like a circus clown
Cats like you can't even get a pound
Worldwide from the river to lakeside
My stage show stay live, make the sound man stage dive
I cut fat cats to eight lives with my eight ball lines
I'm home 'fore I'm done with all nine
Got you shook like a fault line
Come all shine and get tarnished
Brooklyn got your pay roll garnished
They form a huddle
Whisper like they want trouble
I melt the ice grills into rainwater puddles
Make the proud-hearted leave on the humble
Black steel in the hour
Assemble my skill form my power
My poems crush bones into powder
You mumble like a coward
I'm Mos Def, you need to speak louder
Superheroes
Get your power, your masks and capes snatched
Brooklyn take what you can't take back
I know a lot of cats hate that
All I can say black
There's a city full of walls you can post complaints at
All the doubters and believers adjust your receivers
"I feel it," you can taste it through the speakers
The three six oh-riginal sketch lyrics so visual
They rent my rhyme books at your nearest home video

Tell them cats they need to sit back and observe where they at
Brook-nahm Vietnam
The heat is on
Put your joint on cruise
Try to rush you scuff your brake shoes, just cool and relax
Take a breath, take ten paces back
Stay on time like Omegas
Brooklyn patrol like interstaters
Take their license and their registration papers

My joint's so passionate
Make you peel out and mash your shit
Get wild cold crash your whip
Front chassis wrecked, but akh' you can't be too upset
Tow truck got my tape in the deck
I'm permanent like tattoos and birth marks
Third degree burn marks
Driving on tracks like Dale Earnhardt
Stay on the low like the herb spot
Put a big loss on your earn chart
Nice since the nurse signed my birth chart
Seldom seen but often heard, while your jams is barely heard
Just my name is a daily word
From avenues to streets, terraces and park places
Stair wells, jail cells, penthouse to basements
Arrangement basic, but still fans chase it
Y2K can't delete the true ancient
Apache war drum on the ranges
Skill level dangerous
Arrow head that killed all the cavemen
They cry John-Blazing, but step on the pavement
And get violated like a plaintiff
I ain't shit to play with
I give a Goddamn what your name is
Delete it and make it so it never get repeated
Believe it
Tell the feds, tell your girl, tell your mother
Conference call you wack crew and tell each other
That they just ain't holding me
I'm Mos Def, you hopefully
Mush on before you get bust on like a ovary

Tell them cats they need to ease back and observe where they at
Brook-nahm Vietnam
The heat is on
Put your joint on cruise
Try to rush you scuff your brake shoes, just cool and relax
Take a breath, take ten paces back
Brook-nahm Vietnam
The heat is on, no off-ramp or detour

Make these gassed up jokers observe the speed law
Make these gassed up clowns observe the speed law
Make these gassed up clowns observe the speed law
'Cause they speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin'
Speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin'
Speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin', speedin'
Relax
Slow down, you better chill, money
Lights be changing fast on these streets dude
Gonna smash your whole shit up
You better cool out, money
It ain't like that out here
Look at these cats man, it's funny man
You prob'ly just got that car
About to fuck your whole shit up
Speed laws out here, money
Knight Rider cats
In control like interstaters, state-ahs, state-ahs
State-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs
State-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs, state-ahs
Stay the fuck off the road, money”

Track 6 – Do It Now

Melopeia: Por vezes, o mais importante não é sobre o que se diz numa determinada frase, mas antes a forma como ela é dita. A raiva, o nojo, a dor. Quando se tira o poder de articular as palavras a alguém, a única coisa que lhe resta são as suas emoções. A língua pode ser arrancada, o dialeto destruído, o crioulo ridicularizado. Mas a emoção persiste. A raiva, o nojo, a dor.

Luz de trovoada muda — é uma questão de se ser visto pela primeira vez. Um dia aproximar-se-á o suficiente para ser ouvida.

“Back up, back up, back up, back up
Back up back up back up back up EASE off
This goes out to all area crew (yes yes)
To my BK crew (ooh-OOOOOOOH-WHEEE) to my QB crew
My LI crew, my Shaolin crew
My Dirty South crew
(What cha'll niggas know about the Dirty South?)
Atlanta, North Cakalak'
For all my fam, all area crew (AOWWWWWWWWW)
Yeah mon!!

Yes, the first cut should be the deepest
To penetrate beyond the muscle wall's inner regions
First you was icing me, connect with the staring at the speakers
Heard the rhyme, head high, what ya starin at ya sneakers
You shy now, got a lot of things on your mind now
You don't feel fly now, you hunting the exit sign down
Fuck what you heard, 'cause I snatch the grapevine down
(yea yeah)
Don't understand how I ran the line down? Rewind now

Yo, we be the most magnetic, so athletic
Leave your peeps on the side
So they can watch you and your mans get it
Take the arch rivalry stance up on the podium
And give the flavor to niggas but keep it low on sodium
Possess shit that got you wondering how we holdin 'em
Things that'll lay you out like a piece of linoleum
Bring who-ever you want, we bout to bug, son, and bounce
Down to Henry Hudson, after I bust one!

Ay Mos Def! Alright okay
How you feel? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death
What's up with you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!
Bus-a-Bus, What-a-gwan?
How you feel? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death, what up wit you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, Black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!

Ay dios mio, me and Bustarimo muy peligro
The two hottest negroes en Los Estados Unidos
Hotter than Reno when discovered by Bugsy Siegel
I'm black like Don Cheadle shoutin' power to the people
My rhymes dipping like the lifeline on the e-boat
The raw sugar cane, NutraSweet, never Equal
If you in a Benzito or your mother's Buick Regal
I get up like Chino shoutin power to the people

Yo, me and the Mighty Mos shine like a light post
Live nigga shit be straight fucking up the white folks
That's why they with it now, because niggas like me and you
We did it now, brought it to that level so they get it now
We graduated saturated the game now
Infatuated with the fame now, let me explain how
We doing this, at any time or any place ready willing and able
Let's get the dough secure the food on the table

Ay Mos Def! Oh my god
How you feel? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death
What's up with you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!
Bus-a-Bus, rhymes galore
What's the deal? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death, what up with you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!

From east, west, north, and south, I got joints for all of those
Heavy aquatic water flows keepin' them on they toes
Tell them thugs that wanna be CEOs to be derobed
'Fore I wear your little dumb ass out like Easter clothes!

Yo, yo yo yo yo
It's like a freak show, soon as my heat blow
Sometime I speak slow so people understand my street flow
And while we keep it hot, we got the most shine up in
This whole shit, me and Mos spit and blow the show quick

Watch out, your pussy sound get bucked south
Mos and Busta Rhymes too bad man-a-shutout
Watch out, give a damn what fancy car ya hop out
Shut down your game like the NBA lockout

You better watch out, I'm 'bout to black on niggas
Like I'm blowin on a sax, blowin my gats on niggas
Blowin my raps on niggas, now let me mash out
We fatter than the biggest ass chicks pokin' they ass out

Ay Mos Def! Magnetism
How you feel? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death, what's up with you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!
Bus-a-Bus, woo ha!
How you feel? Feeling great
What you want? I wanna do it to death, what up with you?
You know my steez, true indeed
Say it loud, black and proud
Ain't no time to hesitate at the gate, do it now!

What what, we got to do it, do it
We got to do it, do it, make me do it, do it
What.. wha-what-what, we got to do it, do it
Make me do it, do it
Do it do it do it now!
What what, we got to do it, do it
Do we do it, do it, do it, ah do it now!
What what, we got to do it, do it
Got to do it, do it
Do it now!”

Track 7 – Got

Melopeia: Intencionalmente deixado em branco.

“Some cats really like to, you know...
Profile and front
And then the jooks go down, all at once they like...

Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me

You're out on the block hustling at the spot
GOT, this is how you get Got
At the gamblin' spot and your hand is mad hot
GOT, this is how you get Got
Out in Brooklyn late night flashing all of your rocks
GOT, this is how you get Got
Some girl from pink house said "I like you a lot"
GOT, this is how you get Got

This one goes to all them Big Will cats
With ice on they limbs and big rims on they Ac
You goin' around town with your system bump
And your windows cracked low to profile and front
Now I like to have nice things just like you
But I'm from Brooklyn, certain shit you just don't do
Like, high postin' when you far from home
Or like, high postin' when you all alone
Now, this would seem to be clear common sense
But cats be livin' off sheer confidence
Like "Fuck that, picture them tellin' me run that"
But acting invincible, just ain't sensible
It's nineteen ninety-now, and there's certain individuals
Swear they rollin' hard and get robbed on principle
5 star general, flashin' on your revenue
You takin' a ride on the Downstate medical, Like (whooooooo)
Colorful sparks, yellow and blue
A full on attack and it's happening to you
Wit' nothing you can do but bust back and cop a plea
But five of them and one of you, that equals Got to me

Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me

Come on ya'll now, let's be real
Some jokers got a rough time keepin' it concealed
I wonder what it mean, it's probably self-esteem
They fiendin to be seen, get hemmed like Gabardines
Cats think it can't happen until the gats start clappin
They comin' down the wire spittin fire like a dragon
Cause while the goods glisten, certain eyes take position
To observe your trickin', then catch that ass slippin'
Like, come on now ock, what you expect?
Got a month's paycheck danglin' off your neck
And while you Cristal sippin', they rubbin' up they mittens
With heat in mint condition to start the getti-gettin'
They clique starts creepin' like Sandinista guerrillas
You screamin' playa haters, these niggas is playa killers
Mr. Fash-ion, that style never last long
The harder you flash, the harder you get flashed on
There's hunger in the street that is hard to defeat
Many steal for sport, but more steal to eat
Cat's heavy at the weigh-in, and he's playin' for keeps
Don't sleep, they'll roll up in your passengers seat
There is universal law, whether rich or poor
Some say life's a game, to more, life is war
So put them egos to the side and get off them head trips
'Fore some cats pull out them heaters and make you headless

Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me
Don't get me, don't get me
Don't g-g-g-g-g-get me”

Track 8 – UMI says

Melopeia: Mãe – definida comumente como mulher que tem ou teve filho(s). 

A mãe é a origem de tudo. E nós fadámos o nosso destino quando fizemos da indígena mãe. 

Mãe cujos filhos forçamo-la a ter depois de a violarmos. Filhos que negámos. Filhos que matámos — mas mãe que não conseguimos apagar. Mãe indelével. De vagina negra e sangrenta, mutilada mas indemne. Grávida do sangue de amanhã.

“I don't wanna write this down
I wanna tell you how I feel right now
I don't wanna take no time to write this down
I wanna tell you how I feel right now, heyyyy! (World premiere)
Tomorrow may never come
For you or me, life is not promised
Tomorrow may never show up
For you and me, this life is not promised
I ain't no perfect man
I'm tryin' to do the best that I can with what it is I have
I ain't no perfect man
I'm tryin' to do the best that I can with what it is I have

Put my heart and soul into this song
I hope you feel me
From where I am, to wherever you are
I mean that sincerely
Tomorrow may never come
For you and me, life is not promised
Tomorrow may never appear
You better hold this very moment very close to you (Right now)
Very close to you (Right now)
So close to you! (Right.. NOW!) Soooo close to you!
Don't be afraid, just let it shine

My Umi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My Abi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My Umi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My Abi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see

I want black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free...

Sometimes, I get discouraged
I look around and, things are so weak, people are so weak
Sometimes, sometimes, I feel like cryin'
Sometimes, my heart beat's heavy
Sometimes, I just wanna leave and.. fly away! (Fly, like a dove)
Sometimes, I don't know what to do with myself (Ow!!!)
Passion takes over me
Feel like a man, goin' insane, losin' my brain, tryna maintain, doin' my thang
Hey-hey-hey-hey-hey
Put my heart and soul into this, y'all!
I hope you feel me, where I am to wherever you are (Ha-ha!)
Sometimes, I don't wanna be bothered
Sometimes, I just want a quiet life — me and my baby, me and my lady
Sometimes, I don't wanna get into no war
Sometimes, I don't wanna be a soldier
Sometimes, I just wanna be a man, but..

Umi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My Abi said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My Jiddo said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see
My elders said shine your light on the world
Shine your light for the world to see

I want black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All my people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free, to be free, to be free
All black people to be free
That's all that matters to me
That's all that matters to me
That's all that matters to me
That's all that matters to me
That's all that matters to me
That's all that matters to me

Black people unite and let's all get down
Gotta have what? Gotta have that love
Peace and understanding
One God, one light
One man, one voice, one mic
Black people unite, come on, and do it right
Black people unite, come on, and do it right
Black people unite, come on, and get down
Gotta have what? Love, peace and understanding
One God, one voice, one life
One man, gon' shine my light
Black people unite, now hop up and do it right
Black people unite, now come on and do it right
Yeah, baby, that's what I like
Yeah, baby, that's what I like

Black people
My people
Black people
My people
My people
My people”

Track 9 – New World Water

Melopeia: O sangue que nos cobre os pés foi hoje enevoado. Tudo se dissipou na falsa penitência formal – os racistas dos nossos dias trocaram o linchamento do chicote pelo princípio da igualdade e da não discriminação!

Qualquer argumento encerrará dentro de si a mentira e a má-fé se se couraçar com a tautologia vazia do Direito.

“There's nothing more refreshing (That cool refreshing drink)
Than having a clear, crisp, clean glass of water
On a warm summer's day (That cool refreshing drink)
Try it with your friends

New World Water make the tide rise high
Come inland and make your house go "Bye" (My house!)
Fools done upset the Old Man River
Made him carry slave ships and fed him dead niggas
Now his belly full and he about to flood somethin'
So I'm throwin' rope that ain't tied to nothin'
Tell your crew use the H2 in wise amounts since
The New World Water; and every drop counts
You can laugh and take it as a joke if you wanna
But it don't rain a full week some summers
And it's about to get real wild in the half
You be buying Evian just to take a fuckin bath
Heads is acting wild, sippin' poor, puffin' dank
Competin' with the next man for higher playin' rank
See I ain't got time tryin' to be Big Hank
Fuck a bank; I need a twenty-year water tank
Cause while these knuckleheads is out here sweatin' they goods
The sun is sitting in the treetops, burnin' the woods
And as the flames from the blaze get higher and higher
They say, "Don't drink the water! We need it for the fire!"

New York is drinkin' it (New World Water)
Now all of California is drinkin' it (New World Water)
Way up North and Down South is drinkin' it (New World Water)
Used to have minerals and zinc in it (New World Water)
Now they say it got lead and stink in it (New World Water)
Fluorocarbons and monoxide
Push the water table lopside
Used to be free, now it cost you a fee
'Cause oil tankers spill they load as they roam across the sea

Man, you gotta cook with it, bathe and clean with it (That's right)
When it's hot, summertime you fiend for it (Let 'em know)
You gotta put it in the iron you steamin' with (That's right)
It's what they dress wounds and treat diseases with (Shout it out)
The rich and poor, black and white got need for it (That's right)
And everybody in the world can agree with this (Let 'em know)
Consumption promotes health and easiness (That's right)
Go too long without it on this earth and you leavin' it (Shout it out)
Americans wastin' it on some leisure shit (Say word?)
Another nation be desperately seekin' it (Let 'em know)
Bacteria washing up on they beaches (Say word?)
Don't drink the water, son they can't wash they feet with it (Let 'em know)
Young babies in perpetual neediness (Say word?)
Epidemics hoppin' up off the petri dish (Let 'em know)
Control centers try to play it all secretive (Say word?)
To avoid public panic and freakiness (Let 'em know)
There are places where TB is common as TV
Cause foreign-based companies go and get greedy
The type of cats who pollute the whole shore line
Have it purified, sell it for a dollar twenty-five

Now the world is drinkin' it (New World Water)
Your moms, wife, and baby girl is drinkin' it (New World Water)
Up North and Down South is drinkin' it (New World Water)
You should just have to go to your sink for it (New World Water)
The cash registers is goin' "cha-chink!" for it (New World Water)
Fluorocarbons and monoxide
Got the fish lookin' cockeyed
Used to be free, now it cost you a fee
'Cause it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)

Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Said it's all about gettin' that cash (Money)
Johnny Cash (Money)
Roseanne Cash (Money)
Give me cash (Money)
Cold cash (Money)
Cash rules everything around me
Move!”

Track 10 – Rock N Roll

Melopeia: São brancas as nossas flores; as folhas das nossas árvores. Mas são Negras as raízes sobre as quais nos construímos. Irrepreensivelmente Negras. Elvis Presley, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Rolling Stones — são brancas as nossas flores. Mas são Negras as raízes sobre as quais nos construímos — Chuck Berry, Fats Waller, Bo Diddley, James Brown.

Não há qualquer tipo de malícia nisto tudo. Pelo menos não haveria, se a branquitude se não recusasse a reconhecer as suas origens. Mas não poderia ser de outra maneira – o confronto entre a imagem idealizada do ‘eu’ e a sua brutalidade violenta concreta e sempre potencial gera a dissociação na consciência do paciente. São Brancas as nossas flores – a expansão marítima, o desenvolvimento, a inovação, a qualidade de vida. Mas são negras as nossas raízes – a escravatura, a plantação, a pilhagem do Sul Global. 

E por isso a brutalidade é imputada ao Outro; ao violentado; ao morto. E por isso o Negro é o incivilizado, o violento, o imprevisível. E as suas criações (offsprings) desdenhosas até serem cooptadas (pintadas) pela branquitude. As flores Negras são tingidas de branco ensanguentado, e as raízes extirpadas. Mas sem a Negritude da terra nunca alguma vez poderemos ser alguém.

Árvores que chegam ao céu têm raízes no inferno. 

“Make me wanna holla!
"Ah.. ah-ah, ah-ah.. ah-ah, ah-lert the squad.."
Rock and roll

(Huh) My grandmomma was raised on a reservation
(Huh) My great-grandmama was, from a plantation
They sang - songs for inspiration
They sang - songs for relaxation
They sang - songs, to take their minds up off that
Fucked up situation
I am, yes I am, the descendant (yes yes)
Of those folks whose backs got broke
Who fell down inside the gun smoke
(Black people!) Chains on their ankles and feet
I am descendants of the builders of your street
(Black people!) Tenders to your cotton money
I am hip-hop
"It's heavy metal for the black people"
I am rock and roll (rock and roll, rock'n'roll)
Been here forever
They just ain't let you know (HA!)

I said, Elvis Presley ain't got no soul (huh)
Chuck Berry is rock and roll (damn right)
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But they ain't come up with that style on they own (uh-uh)
Elvis Presley ain't got no soul (hell naw)
Little Richard is rock and roll (damn right)
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But they ain't come up with that shit on they own (nah-ah)

Guess that's just the way shit goes
You steal my clothes and try to say they yours (yes they do)
Cause it's a show filled with pimps and hoes
Trying to take everything that you made or control (there they go)
Elvis Presley ain't got no soul
Bo Diddley is rock and roll (damn right)
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But they ain't the first place the credit belongs

Say whoa-oh (don't take it)
Oh-we-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh (don't take it)
Oh-we-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh (Jimi Hendrix say)
Oh-we-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh (Albert King and)
Oh-we-oh (and Motown)

I ain't trying to diss
But I don't be trying to fuck with Limp Bizkit ("The fuck is on your mind?")
When I get down in my zone
I be rockin Bad Brains and Fishbone
I ain't tryin to slow your groove
But that ain't the way I'm trying to move
I don't turn on Korn to get it on;
I be playing Jimi Hendrix 'til the dawn
That's my word is bond
Sitting up on my front lawn
Got the volume turned to ten
Playing Albert King the best again (black)
When the morning in the cooker
Got to turn on some John Lee Hooker
When I want some rock and roll
Go to Otis Redding to get some soul

Say, James Brown got plenty of soul
James Brown like to rock and roll
He can do all the shit fo' sho'
That Elvis Presley could never know (black people)
Said, Kenny G ain't got no soul
John Coltrane is rock and roll (uh-huh)
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But they could never ever rock like Nina Simone

Say whoa-oh (don't take it)
Oh-wee-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh (don't take it)
Oh-we-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh (don't take it)
Oh-we-oh (black music)
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

"ah-lert the squad"

Who am I, huh!
Get your punk ass up

Elvis Presley ain't got no soul
Jimi Hendrix is rock and roll
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But everything they did they stole
Elvis Presley ain't got no soul
Bo Diddley is rock and roll
You may dig on the Rolling Stones
But we send their punk ass home

Who am I? (Rock and roll) (x10)

Say, rock and roll!
Who am I? Rock and roll! (x6)

Get your punk ass up
Company, move
For Harlem, Fort Greene, Compton
East St. Louis, Detroit (BO BO)
Chicago (BO BO) Bed-Stuy (BO BO)
Flatbush (BO BO) Brownsville (BO BO)
East New York (BO BO) Newark New Jersey (BO BO)
Illadelphia Cincinnati Atlanta the Dirty South
All towns GET YOUR PUNK ASS UP!!
"Rock and roll for the black people"
Hi ma

"Well that was just wonderful"”

Track 11 – Know That

Melopeia: Sem as marcas das grilhetas nos pulsos nunca seríamos capazes de viver. Não mo disseram alguma vez. Mas a ferida sempre viva dói demasiado para me imaginar sem ela. O peso ontológico da dor prime-se contra a pele descarnada de cada um – e as lágrimas que deitei pelo meu castigo gangrenado um dia tornaram-se na sede de marcar da mesma forma que fui marcado.

“I strike the empire back
I strike the empire back
Fuck the empire
High flying like the Millenium Falcon piloted by Han Solo
I never roll for dolo, fronting on me's a no-no
Understand, doing this for my family
Ha ha, check it out y'all

Yo, I'm trying to make a dollar out of what makes sense
Add it up, told my daddy I'd be a rich man
You never know when your fate gon' switch hand
Get today's solid ground out of yesterday's quicksand
I was a young boy who dreamt about being a big man
On small looseleaf sheets, I sketched a big plan
Gotta handle business properly, boost up my economy
Store it up and get my mom some waterfront property
Yesterday was not for me but nowaday it's time for me
The streets is watching me, I watch back, that's the policy
Moving along my odyssey like blood through the artery
Navigate the treacherous and make it seem effortless
Let those who make the exodus seekin' the North beacon
From beating and hog-eating, from punishment all season
From hands cracked and bleeding, cotton thorns in your palms
It's for y'all that I sketch these songs, and it goes
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow
I fear no man, because faith is the arrow
My vocal chord travel worldwide to block narrow
We can blow with the ammo or go mano-a-mano
Kweli is you with me (What up, what up)
Let's make it happen
I burn through your argument with action
My eyes stay fastened to tomorrow, looking for a brighter day
When y'all wanna leave y'all
Right away

Shout it out from East-West (from South to Northern)
From Cackalack (to California)
From the coldest (to the warmest)
To the borders ('cross the waters) understand..
".. and know that I love you.."
We got love in the place
Shout out to all the Queens (all the Seeds)
To all the teams (that's gettin' cream)
From outlaw (to emcees)
Make it happen (do your thing) understand..
".. and know that I love you.."
Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen

Guess who
The illest MC in the atmosphere
Yeah the Soul Controller
Who roam the frontier like a Buffalo Soldier
I follow the code of honor like a real man gonna
Never disrespect no women 'cause I love my momma
These cats be giving us praise but it ain't that accurate
I give it up to God, all that love and attachment get
Scary well-prepared with the shears when it get hairy
Like how these niggas is looking like some fairies
And singing like canaries to the beast
And anybody who will listen to 'em clearly
Y'all don't hear me though, even when I'm coming through in stereo
You make a mockery of what I represent properly
Yo, why you starting me
I take that shit straight to the artery
Intellectual property I got the title and the deed
I pay for rent with the tears and sweat and what I bleed
MCs imitate the way we walk, the way we talk
You cats spit lyrical pork with no spiritual thought
Plus your flow a little bit off
You come across soft
Back in the days niggas like that on stage got tossed off
Need to get crossed off the guestlist
It's like you gotta be disrespected and thrown out the exit
To get the message
Sometimes your sunshine get snatched like a necklace
When you get too drunk on power and your drive get reckless
Check it, MCs in my face after I slug you then I hug you
If I gotta dead you know it's only 'cause I love you

Shout it out from East-West
(From South to Northern)
From the richest (to the poorest)
To the elders (in the coffins)
Living native (dying for it) understand
And know that I love you
Yea, yea, we got love in the place
Shout out from up top (to the middle)
To black bottom (sky high!)
Whether you colder than December
Or hotter than July
It don't stop til we complete this
And know that I love you
Keep this fly
It's so much to life when you just
Stay black
My people, my people”

Track 12 – Climb

Melopeia: Só seremos felizes quando a palavra saudade for extirpada do nosso vocabulário. Sejamos Negramente claros: a quem é que importa evocar constantemente o passado? Quem é que foi verdadeiramente feliz antes? Quem é que se vidra na presença ausente porque não aceita fitar o espaço que se lhe abre diante dos olhos de hoje?

Sejamos claramente Negros: o presente e o passado não são de todos. A ânsia (longing) por este é apenas a forma escamoteada de negar um futuro de todos.

A saudade está manchada de política.

“People climbed into the night like space suits
People stepped into the night like moon boots
Marching like moon troops
In their soot colored zoot suits

People climbed into the night like cool wells
Shiney bottles in their hands
Drinking their new selves
They say it's their true selves

People climbed up in the night like green trees
They were hanging from the night like green leaves
Buzzing like queen bees

People climbed into the night like space suits
People stomped inside the night
Stomping and stomping and stomping and stomping and stomping

Where are they going?
What's the rush?
Everybody in the place was so out of touch
Hey

Night-time is when the things get heavy
You feel alone and you want somebody
Loneliness whispers desperate measures
And your frantic all by yourself

Night-time is when the things get heavy
You feel alone and you want somebody
Loneliness whispers desperate measures
Baby, don't make no fast moves
Baby, don't make no fast moves
Baby, don't make no fast moves
Baby, don't make no fast moves tonight

People stomped inside the night
Let me climb into the night...
Let me climb...”

Track 13 – Brooklyn

Melopeia: Intencionalmente deixado em branco.

“Hey, hey! Haha! Say what, say what?
Haha! Hahaha! Bust it, yo!
Sometimes, I feel like I don't have a partner
Sometimes, I feel like my only friend
Is the city I live in, this beautiful Brooklyn
Long as I live here, believe I'm on fire, hey

'Cause it's the B-the-R-the-O-the-O-K
L-Y-N is the place where I stay
The B-to-the-R-the-O-the-O-K
Best in the world and all USA
It's the B-to-the-R-the-O-the-O-K
L-Y-N is the place where I stay
The B-to-the-R-the-O-the-O-K
Place where I rest is on my born day

Bust it!
Sometimes, I sit back and just reflect
Watch the world go by, and my thought connect
I think about the time past and the time to come
Reminisce on Bed-Stuy when I was spry and young
I used to try and come to the neighborhood function
Throw on my Izod, say a little somethin'
When I was just a youngin', before the days of thuggin'
How me and Charlie Chims, and yo, what?! I'm only buggin'
Fast forward — 9, now I gotta team my seed
I must proceed at God's speed to perform my deed
Livin' the now space and time, 'round the nine-to-five
For as long as I'm alive, pah, I gotta strive
I ain't sittin roadside, that ain't part of the plan
I'm out here for my fam', doin' all that I can
I love my city! Sweet and gritty, inland to outskirts
Nickname Bucktown 'cause we prone to outburst
Philosophy redefine us, touch mine? I touch back
Walk the streets like ya sweet, and get beat like drum tracks
Catch no shakes, over Jakes (Woop-Woop!), we bust back
Bring the marty to your face with no place to run back
I'm from the slums that created the bass that thump back
This ain't a game, clown, play ya James Brown and jump back
What you want, Jack? Young cats stash they jums at
Draw they guns back, momma screams where she sons at
Tryin' to hunt that, recurrin' dream of high stakes
The fourth largest, first hardest, Brooklyn is the place
Settled by the Dutch many years ago
Three million strong, and here we go!

Good morning, Vietnam!
(We live in Brooklyn, baby) (Wake up, wake up)
(We live in Brooklyn, baby) (Wake up, wake up)

Yo, sometimes, I sit back, reflect on the place that I live at
Unlike any place I ever been at
The home of big gats, deep-dish hammer rim caps
Have a mishap, push your wig back
Where you go to get the fresh trim at
Fulton and Jay got the Timb rack
Blue collars metro cardin' it
Thugs mobbin' it, form partnership, increase armament
Street pharmacists — deep consequence
When you seek sleek ornaments, you get caught
Rode the white horse and can't get off
Big dogs that trick off just get sent off
They shoebox stash is all they seeds gotta live off
It's real, yo, but still, yo, it's love here
And it's felt by anybody that come here
Outta-towner's take the train, plane and bus here
Must be somethin' that they really want here
One year as a resident, deeper sentiment
They shout out, "Go Brooklyn!" — they representin' it
Sittin' on they front stoop, sippin' Guinness's
Usin' native dialect in they sentences
From the tree-line blocks to the tenements
To the Mom and Pop local shop businesses
We travel all around the world in great distances
And ain't a place that I know that bear resemblance
That's why we call it 'The Planet'
Not a borough or a province, our style is uncommon
From Sumner to Tompkins to Lafayette Gardens
Wyckoff, Gowanus, in they army jacket linings
Yo, this goes out to my cats in Coney Isle
Friday night out in front The Himalaya, goin' wild
This goes out to Crown Heights and Smurv Village
The '90s, and all my yarda Trini Brownsvillers
Parkside tennis courts; 30's, 40's and the 50's
The cats out in Starrett City gettin' busy
To the Hook, to the East, to the Stuy
Bushwick and Canarsie
Farragut, Fort Greene and Marcy
My Flatbush posse, generals and armies
When it's time to form, just call me
And let this song be playin' loud and long, B
If you love Bucktown strongly
Raze it up!

Brooklyn — my habitat, the place where it happen at
Lives sway in the sharp balance of the battle axe
Irons is brandished at, thugs draw they hammer back
It's where you find the News Two crew cameras at
It's where my fam is at, the summertime jam is at
They play B.I.G. and get you open like a sandal back
Hotter than candle wax, hustlin', you can't relax
The crack babies tryin' to find where they mamas at
It's off the handle, black, with big police scandals that
Turn into action screenplays sold to Miramax
The type of place where they check your appearance at
And cats who know where all the hot 'Lo gear is at
The stompin' grounds where you find the pound smokers that
Be Blazin' John, that have your wave cap floatin' back
The doorstep where the dispossessed posted at
Dope fiends out on Franklin Ave. sellin' Zovirax
You big ballin'? Better keep your money folded back
'Cause once the young guns notice that, it's over, black!
"Brooklyn keep on takin' it!" — worldwide we known for that!
Flossy cats get it snatched like the local tax
The place I sharpen up my baritone vocals at
Where one of the greatest MC's was a local cat!”

Track 14 – Habitat

Melopeia: O que nos vale é ainda termos o palhaço do circo para nos distrairmos da vida – se não formos felizes, ao menos seremos divertidos, leia-se obedientes e gratos. 

Mas o que deverá acontecer se nos matarem o palhaço diante da frieza dos nossos olhos com um joelho no pescoço ou cinco tiros à queima-roupa? 

Já não precisamos de um palhaço para o circo correr; é a sua ausência que nos diverte – a máquina está montada.

Ainda hoje continuamos a ignorar que o mais importante talvez nunca tenha sido a existência de um palhaço, mas a sua inserção no espaço circo. É em primeiro lugar no espaço que nos determinamos – e o espaço em que nos encontramos está geometricamente planeado para dar azo a formas de poder dissimuladas. As luzes do espetáculo há muito que se ocaram.

É necessário cultivar formas de estudar a constante presença faltante da geometria e da (geo)grafia da nossa opressão. Caso contrário, apontaremos sempre para o palhaço ausente no meio do circo como o culpado de tudo, inscientes que assim continuaremos a olhar para a ponta do dedo que aponta e não para onde ela nos remete. 

“We all got to have, some place that we come from (Home: a place where someone lives, a residence)
This place that we come from is called home (The physical structure within which one lives, such as a house)
We set out on our travels, we do the best we can (A dwelling place with the social unit that occupies it, a household)
We travel this big earth as we roam (An environment offering security and happiness. A valued place. A native habitat)

We all got to have, some place where we come from (A place where something is discovered, founded, developed, or promoted)
This place that we come from is called home (A source, a headquarters, a home base)
And even though we may love, this place on the map (All correlating to a teams place of origin on or into the point of which something is directed to the center or the heart. ?)
Said it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at

I come up in the street around some real wild brothers
With more than one name and more than one baby mother
More than one case, been on more than one run
Got more than one enemy and more than one gun
Partner, all that is left to want is more
While them cats whose less privileged is just more raw
Less space cause the projects laced with more flaws
Less sleep cause the nights ain't peace, it's more war
The can is raw like thirsty, rainy season thunder claps
On the block with your old pop pleading number act
To the spot with the red top fiends is huddled at
To the crib where the little kids spend their summers trapped
With the jungle cats, lions and tigers, leopards and cheetahs
For gazelle you get chased like a zebra, they blaze cheeba-cheeba
And dominate the weaker on the street
Hungry bellies only love what they eat and it's hard to compete
When they smilin with your heart in they teeth
And the odds is stacked high beyond and beneath
Son I been plenty places in my life and time
And regardless where home is, son home is mine

We all got to have (in this world) some place where we come from (travellin travellin travellin travellin)
This place that we come from is called home (so many places I go)
We set out on our travels, (in this world) we do the best we can (travellin travellin)
We travel this big earth as we roam (roam roam roam)

We all got to have, some place that we come from (people all over the world)
This place that we come from is called home (got to have some place to call home)
And even though we may love, this place on the map (place on the map)
Said it ain't where ya from, (ain't where you from) it's where ya at

Some people live out in-New York City
Some people live out in-Atlanta
Some people got to live-Chicago
Some people do live-Miami
All my people at-California
And other people got to live-London
And everybody got to live in the whole big world
Together just you and me

When I think of home, my remembrance of my beginning
Laundromat helping ma dukes fold the bed linen
Chillin in front my building with my brother and them
Spending nights in Bushwick with my cousins and them
Wise town and Beat Street, federal relief
Slowly melting in the morning grits we used to eat
Sticking to your teeth and teeth is hard to keep
With every flavor Now & Later only a dime apiece
Old timers on the bench playing cards and thangs
Telling tales about they used to be involved in things
Start to drinking, talking loud, cussing up and showing out
On the phone, call the cops, pick'em up, move'em out
And it's all too common to start wildin
I'm a pirate on an island seeking treasure known as silence
And it's hard to find
Block parties in dark lobbies
Funeral homes packed but only dark bodies
I can't sleep hardly, stirred up like Bob Marley
Marley Marl played the symphony, remember we recall
Son I been to many places in my space and time
And whatever my home is, son home is mine

We all got to have, (been all over this world) some place where we come from (travellin travellin travellin travellin)
This place that we come from is called home (so many places I go)
We set out on our travels, (set out on the travels) we do the best we can (and do the best I can)
We travel this big earth as we roam (? best I know)

We all got to have, (we all got to have) some place where we come from (some place you call home)
This place that we come from is called home (some place your heart can be close to)
And even though we may love, (we may love) this place on the map (this place on the map)
Said it ain't where ya from, (no no) it's where ya at (it ain't where ya at)
I said it ain't where ya from, (hey hey) it's where ya at
I said it ain't where ya from, (no no) it's where ya at
(I said it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at)
(I said it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at)
(I said it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at)
It's where ya at”

Track 15 – Mr N*gga

Melopeia: A linguagem é normativa. Falhar em reconhecê-lo é um erro crasso. Antes de a usarmos para criar leis, comandos, proibições e ordens, a linguagem opera desde logo enquanto norma a partir do momento em que se decide quem a pode usar, quando o pode fazer e de que forma. Moldar a linguagem à figura das nossas idiossincrasias é imprimir nela a forma como cremos que o mundo deve ser. E a nossa gramática está manchada de branquitude.

É por isso que o ato de uma população de reivindicar coletivamente para si o uso exclusivo de uma palavra é de inignorável importância. E um borrão imperdoável na brancura das nossas palavras. O facto de a palavra ter sido originalmente criada como punhal preferido de degradação e humilhação do branco é poético, no mínimo. No máximo, um negligenciado (overlooked) e subestimado processo semântico de inversão de papéis – o total esvaziamento da palavra carregada de maldade e ódio e o seu posterior (re)preenchimento com orgulho e emancipação por parte daqueles a quem a maldade e o ódio eram intencionados. 

As pedras que me atirares hoje serão amanhã estátuas dos meus templos dos quais estarás para sempre proscrito.

“Say ho, everybody say ho
By the way yo
I said take it slow like way back in the day-yo
By the way yo, everybody say ho
Everybody say hooooo- hooo
Everybody say ho

And check it out now
Who is the cat dining out on the town
And make the whole dining room turn they head round
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
Who be riding up in the high rise elevator
Other tenants who be prayin that he ain't the new neighbor
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
They try to play him like a chump cause he got what they want

He under thirty years old but already he's a pro
Designer trousers slung low cause his pockets stay swoll'
Could afford to get up and be anywhere he go
V.I.P. at the club, backstage at the show
(Yes y'all) the best crib, the best clothes
Hottest whips on the road neck and wrists on froze (say word)
Checks with Os, o-o-o-o-ohs
Straight all across the globe, watch got three time-zones
Keep the digital phone up to his dome
Two assistants, two bank accounts, two homes
One problem; even with the Os on his check
The po-po stop him and show no respect
"Is there a problem officer?" Damn straight, it's called race
That motivate the jake (woo-woo) to give chase
Say they want you successful, but that ain't the case
You living large, your skin is dark, they flash a light in your face

Now, who is cat dining out on the town
Maitre'd wanna take a whole year to sit him down
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
Now, who is the cat at Armani buying wears
With the tourists who be asking him, do you work here?
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
Nigga Nigga

Yo, the Abstract with the Mighty Mos Def
White folks gotta mumble the chorus beneath they breath
(I didn't say it!)
But they'll say it out loud again
When they get with they close associates and friends
You know, sneak it in with they friends at the job
Happy hour at the bar, while this song is in they car
And even if it's never said and lips stay sealed
They actions reveal how their hearts really feel
Like, late night I'm on a first class flight
The only brother in sight, the flight attendant catch fright
I sit down in my seat, 2C
She approach officially, talking about, "Excuse me"
Her lips curl up into a tight space
Cause she don't believe that I'm in the right place
Showed her my boarding pass, and then she sort of gasped
All embarrassed, put an extra lime in my water glass (So sorry)
An hour later here she come by, walkin' past
"I hate to be a pest but my son would love your autograph"
Wow.. (I saw you roll your eyes, Mr. Nigga I love your albums!..)
They stay on nigga patrol on American roads
And when you travel abroad they got world nigga law
Some folks get on a plane, go where they please
But I go overseas and I get over-seized
London, Heathrow, me and my people
They think that illegal's a synonym for negro
Far away places, customs agents flagrant
They think that dark faces smuggle weight in they cases
Bags inspected, now we arrested
Attention directed to contents of our intestines
Urinalysis followed by X-rays
Interrogated and detained 'til damn near the next day
No evidence, no apology, and no regard
Even for the big American rap star
For us especially, us most especially
A Mr. Nigga VIP jail cell, just for me
(If I knew you were coming I'd have baked a cake)
Just got some shoe-polish, painted my face
They say they want you successful, but then they make it stressful
You start keeping pace, they start changing up the tempo

Now, who is cat riding out on the town (Ha ha)
State trooper wanna stop him in his ride, pat him down
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
He got the speakers in the trunk with the bass on crunk
Now, who is the cat with the hundred dollar bill (What, what say word)
They gotta send it to the lab to make sure the shit is real
Mr. Nigga, Nigga Nigga
Nigga Nigga.. Nigga

You can laugh and criticize Michael Jackson if you wanna;
Woody Allen molested and married his step-daughter
Same press kicking dirt on Michael's name
Show Woody and Soon-Yi at the playoff game (Holding hands)
Sit back and just bug, think about that
Would he get that type of dap if his name was Woody Black?
O.J. found innocent by jury of his peers
And they been fucking with that nigga for the last five years
Is it fair, is it equal, is it just, is it right?
Do you do the same shit when the defendant face is white?
If white boys doing it, well, it's success
When I start doing it, well, it's suspect
Don't hate me, my folks is poor, I just got money
America's five centuries deep in cotton money
You see a lot of brothers caked up, yo straight up
It's new, y'all livin off of slave traders' paper
But I'm a live though, yo I'm a live though
I'm puttin up the big swing for my kids, yo
Got my mom the fat water-front crib, yo
I'm a get her them pretty bay windows
I'm a cop a nice home to abide in
A safe environment for seeds to reside in
A fresh whip for my whole family to ride in
And if I'm still Mr. Nigga, I won't find it suprisin'”

Track 16 – Mathematics

Melopeia: A humanidade de um gesto não é quantificável. O que mais custa a alguns é que a vida não seja conta certa e que a sua divisão dê sempre um resto. Angústia filosófica — mas raras vezes se falou da dimensão política dos números. A desumanidade de um gesto também não é quantificável. 

A quem dá jeito reduzir escamotear as questões sociais com a matriz neurótica dos números? O PIB, os orçamentos, as taxas de encarceramento, criminalidade, a delinquência juvenil. A quem convém apagar o matiz das questões com o peso surdo do número? 

Nós escolhemos a ciência porque a religião sempre foi castradora, mas esquecemo-nos de que quando a capitalizamos, a Ciência também se torna amputada (handicapped, shortcomed). 

E apesar de tudo isto, o que mais nos devia transtornar é haver ainda assim estatísticas que nos contextualizem a desumanidade a que muitos estão sujeitos.

Bucka-bucka-bucka-bucka-bucka-bucka, haha!
You know the deal; it's just me, yo
Beats by Su-Primo for all of my people, Negroes and Latinos
And even the gringos

Yo, check it
1 for Charlie Hustle, 2 for Steady Rock
3 for the forth-comin' live future shock
It's 5 dimensions, 6 senses
7 firmaments of heaven and hell
8 million stories to tell
9 planets faithfully keepin' orbit, with the probable 10th
The universe expands length
The body of my text possess extra strength
Power-lift the powerless up out of this towering inferno
My ink so hot, it burn through the journal
I'm blacker than midnight on Broadway & Myrtle
Hip-Hop passed all your tall social hurdles
Like the nationwide projects-prison-industry complex
Working-class poor — better keep your alarm set
Streets too loud to ever hear freedom ring
Say evacuate your sleep, it's dangerous to dream
For ch-ching, cats get the "Cha-pow!" — you dead now
Killing fields need blood to graze the cash cow
It's a numbers game, but shit don't add up somehow
Like I got 16 to 32 bars to rock it
But only 15% of profits ever see my pockets
Like $69 billion in the last 20 years
Spent on national defense, but folks still live in fear
Like nearly half of America's largest cities is one-quarter black
That's why they gave Ricky Ross all the crack
16 ounces to a pound, 20 more to a ki
A 5 minute sentence hearing and you no longer free
40% of Americans own a cell phone
So they can hear everythin' that you say when you ain't home
I guess Michael Jackson was right — you are not alone
Rock your hardhat, black, 'cause you in the Terrordome
Full of hard niggas, large niggas, dice-tumblers
Young teens and prison greens facin' life numbers
Crack mothers, crack babies and AIDS patients
Young bloods can't spell, but they could rock you at PlayStation
This New Math is whippin' motherfuckers' ass
You wanna know how to rhyme? You better learn how to add
It's mathematics

"The Mighty Mos Def"
"It's simple mathematics"
"Check it out"
"I revolve around science"
"What are we talking about here?"
"The Mighty Mos Def"
"It's simple mathematics"
"Check it out"
"I revolve around science"
"What are we talking about here?"
"Do your math, do your math"
"1, 2, 3, 4"
"What are we talking about here?"

Yo, it's 1 universal law, but 2 sides to every story
3 strikes and you biddin' for life, mandatory
4 MC's murdered in the last 4 years
I ain't tryin' to be the 5th when the millennium is here
Yo, it's 6 million ways to die from the 7 deadly thrills
8-year-olds gettin' found with 9mils
It's 10PM, where your seeds at? What's the deal?
He on the hill pumpin' krills to keep they bellies filled
Light in the ass with heavy steel, sights on the pretty shit in life
Young soldiers tryin' to earn they next stripe
When the average minimum wage is $5.15
You best believe you gotta find a new grind to get C.R.E.A.M
The white unemployment rate is nearly more than triple for black
Some front-liners got they gun in your back
Bubblin' crack, jewel theft and robbery to combat poverty
And end up in the global jail economy
Stiffer stipulations attached to each sentence
Budget cutbacks, but increased police presence
And even if you get out of prison still livin'
Join the other 5 million under state supervision
This is bidness; no faces, just lines and statistics
From your phone, your Zip Code, to SSI digits
The system break man, child and women into figures
2 columns for "Who is" and "Who ain't" niggas
Numbers is hard and real and they never have feelings
But you push too hard, even numbers got limits
Why did one straw break the camel's back?
Here's the secret — the million other straws underneath it
It's all mathematics

"The Mighty Mos Def"
"It's simple mathematics"
"Check it out"
"I revolve around science.."
"What are we talking about here?"
"The Mighty Mos Def"
"It's simple mathematics"
"Check it out"
"I revolve around science.."
"What are we talking about here?"
"Do your math, do your math"
"1, 2, 3, 4"
"What are we talking about here?"

(Mathematics, mathematics, mathematics...)

Track 17 – May-December

Melopeia: Há uma linha ténue demais entre o endossamento a um determinado movimento político e a sua apropriação egoísta ao ponto de tomarmos a luta de outros como a nossa própria. Este exercício de escrever sobre a gramática específica de um artista que vive todos os dias as feridas da negritude, sendo a mão que segura a caneta a de um corpo visto como branco, não é exceção. Pode ser – e deverá ser – visto como um ato egoísta e de ingenuidade de alguém que não sabe – porque não poderá nunca saber – como se solidarizar de outra forma com lutas de grupos dos quais não faz parte.

Não obstante, é a consciência da inutilidade cósmica dos seus trabalhos que tornam a obra do artista ainda mais importante – e real, se quisermos. Talvez, o facto de sabermos que desconhecemos na primeira pessoa os problemas de um determinado grupo e ainda assim decidirmos afincadamente defendê-lo como se fosse nosso torna a nossa militância política ainda mais importante – e real. Peço desculpa por algo que não fiz, sabendo o quão ridículo é – mas peço porque sei que aquilo que não fiz está ainda assim entranhado na epiderme política que reveste as possibilidades de me determinar a mim mesmo enquanto sujeito, ao mesmo tempo que descarnou a epiderme das possibilidades de um Outro. Sei que nunca poderei apoiar qualquer movimento político exterior à minha condição de modo absolutamente neutro e, passe a redundância, exterior – porque o ato de afiliação às causas e às reivindicações de um grupo também mexe diretamente comigo, precisamente por provocar em mim a consciência do quão envolvido estou, ainda que involuntariamente, nas relações e conflitos de poder, dinâmicas de privilégios-desvantagens, injustiças e injustiçadas/os atuais.

Como qualquer ser vivo que acaba de nascer, aquele que politicamente recém-nasce e desperta para a forma como faz inelutavelmente parte de um sistema injusto, fará os mais impensáveis e ridículos erros e criancices – não porque quer, mas porque não tem outra forma de aprender senão através das quedas e do sangue que deitar pelo constante jogo de tentativa e erro. Ver nisto um ato cínico de sabotagem dos diferentes movimentos políticos atuais e um argumento para os compartimentar longe uns dos outros é algo que só favorece os mesmos de sempre. Os de cima. E é algo que vai contra a essência do Hip-Hop – por ir contra a essência da vida. 

Teremos sempre mais motivos para cantarmos juntos e enclausurados do que nos remetermos ao silêncio coletivo em liberdade.  

Instrumental