“Be Still My Soul”
Still here staring at the night sky speaking to clouds,
Still a go to feature 16’s sequenced for the speakers and the crowd,
Still hangs on every word hoping they can see where I’ve been,
Still silent not just to keep mysetery rather deal it within,
Keep my pen as an extension of the appeal with the phflegm,
Still on my private talk no desire to ever let rivals stock,
Ammo leave truth in camo for the life that dialed off,
Catch me looking ugly on page never mulling ‘bout stutters laced,
Still humble faced,
But still yelling CMON MAN LOOK AT ME with a grace you can’t cut away,
Still a 100 still got a 1000 for the herb types,
Saying word life,
Still on 35 headed to record 4’s to burn the turnpike,
Still the longest drive still swerving lanes to hit booths first,
Repping Soul Pro and Dat Gang with Lamb and Legion as the crew for new shirts,
Brewing up new works,
Still prolific don’t miss what I’m doing there’s movement in the used dirt,
Still stirring up verbage for you to verbalize enhancement,
Straight to vertebrae my verses laid to certify your dance steps,
Still on my one two shuffle and the hustle is raw,
So be still my soul while the struggle evolves….
-HOOK-
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul….leave me just this mic,
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul,
Be still my soul….
With every piece of the soul I have,
I hold my pad and,
Fold my hands,
Prayers and words curving,
Each layer that burns urgent,
Tailored each versed version,
And almost caught the tail of the hearse swerving,
Still spit for each loaned moment to service each sermon,
Though this surgeon isn’t out to denote poems,
As mode for those that have gon hopeless,
There’s folk that have learned motion is only motive for false acts,
We fall patched down to particles no pardon for stalled laps,
As the careless sit to tear tissue,
With no char-ity and bare-ly the clar-ity to carry issues,
We all want to place problems on the starving even with the knowledge that no one is buried with you,
So this life is mine even ‘mongst the scary miscues,
I’m preparing the fruits of my labor not to savor but to make sure the cherry hits you,
Seen it all with the sense to bury beneath,
Don’t peer in the fierce just keep staring at sheets,
Focused on the poems words a locust swarm in the warm breeze,
Saved this past the summer sun till fortune formed in the torn leaves,
Wrote till Winter turned butter to spit it all your core deep,
So this is my encore speech,
On fours to get you on board when you want sleep,
No pillow talk filters locked for quotes that boast fleets,
So there’s no need to not know about the soul I have….
-HOOK-
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul….leave me just this mic,
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul,
Be still my soul….
There’s a reason for hope,
In this season of growth I am deep with an oath,
To put meaning to quotes,
Till what I treat to the poems seeps into throats,
No chaser there’s a place for your tastebuds being chased pure,
Cuz I keep a high energy,
Grinding never sleep never slip of let em breathe,
This rap sh*t is no Lennon won’t tell it that I’ll let it be,
You don’t want beef I’m at ease with no letters ceased,
Please don’t believe that these bars mean if you step up I’m not set up to make you catch a ream,
To forehead no force stretched to forcep you from your ego large,
Spit on needles far before you put needles in your emo arms,
I’m an eagle sparked in flight in sight of where the evil harms,
They can’t stop how I’m branding the hands that I’ve spawned,
I was born in the fog on a lawn while darelicts were dancing at dawn,
So now with every carved nitch I’m siding with Darwin at how my stance has evolved….
-HOOK-
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul….leave me just this mic,
Be still my soul….hold tight,
Be still my soul,
Be still my soul….
credits
from Dilla Day EP,
released February 7, 2013
Dilla
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