Between Two Points

So big the that sky would open up Pitch for the angels That's right a pitch for the angels On the micro bus weaving around the township Psyco stunts believing this correct route shit Moody cabbie muddy puddle reflecting my avi A.N.C. twitter relief style Profile wild mad traffic in my attic Meanwhile taking in sounds style wild as we arrive At the central workshop I heard hot sounds drums roll Humanistic hustling sounds tussling go down Renown violence shhhhhh re-crowned silence Sometimes when Durban roads bend the guidance got this work-a- haulic Steady yearning for the islands Shit it's business at hand I passed point road Keeping my pockets closed thieves rocking Mr. Point clothes Anoint the roads with my ashes You believe these scenes on the postcards? it's adolescence Stretched out in Medellin Etched out in vivid dreams Sunbeams enter the center of Pablo's scene Searching the landscape sunlight lace my balcony Sun draped the empanadas I taste Delicious neighbor across the way doing her dishes I waved she say "eros guapo" what is this Business at hand new land but same difference Mountainous slums niggas and drugs From out the fog emerging Colombian thugs They show love he said "yo you represent us" From up above to down here hit me off with a pound and a hug My nigga Gab showed us the slums grimy shit No trouble in customs they rushed us through Copa airlines await a hairline rush Just like us Different hates different lust Lusting guns bust that's how they do us Awesome dreams from the bottom spotting the rotten Houses in between every empty field is it Sodom I wonder Pops took us out the hood next to so called good Neighbors but we un-wanted They god was willie lynch and take this good book it's his Whenever I burn bridges I light a path to the finish Graphic cynics bankrupting our districts gentrifying our eyes Have us believing July sidewalks is frigid Fucking our minds guns rule Detroiters we blind Or oblivious non-chivalrious to her civil-ness No difference blanketed images I've travelled across Bogota bridges Built my way past KwaZulu henchmen The lynch pin is the axis of the earth Birth survival like a cactus vital to that h2O balance Baring talons and talent by the gallons We all belong in a palace Kings & Queens Speaking the same language Banging this beat with malice 'til we ashes

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