Red

[Verse 1: Evidence] Yo, every time I write I start reverting to my life It feels more important than any words that rhyme And what I mean is this: I can't rap for other rappers My truth has to be told, if not then I'm an actor I played roles til it didn't feel redeeming I save my bread when it's earned more than when I'm scheming My day's light compared to feelings in the evening At night, I'm an angel on my shoulders wearing demons I wear my heart on my articles of clothing And play my cards, I'm just an artist who ain't folding I saved my scars for the day I started flowing In the same way the hardest shit to learn's a part of growing Told the world my dreams and lived through it And I came apart at the seams, then I renewed it Wipe the slate clean Validate everything I knew since I was eighteen Might just rock a gold chain like B.A. from A-Team My God, these are not words with empty promises These are from a person who's immersed in where the drama is I thought the feeling was dead So I wrote a second verse but kept the first one instead My God, if these four walls could talk My drum chops have seen it all His eyes were dead Mine always been bloodshot red [Verse 2: Brother Ali] Midwest or Venice First or second amendment Shell casing or penmanship They felt it when I sent it I'm sixth sense, sentence sensitivity is vintage Busy curing sicknesses that's yet to be invented Engendered, respected, Nth degree is endless The main emphasis is to be felt instead of mentioned Man listen, I step up on this land pissin' And rocking a chunky gold link chain of transmission My bandwidth is blistering Ancestors hissin' and Standing on the brick to push my passion through this instrument My God, extended breaks to invite me And dilate my peoples, bystanders can't indict me I got a brother named Amir Sulaiman If you know my name and not his, then something's wrong Word born, here's a bar he spit, I wanna honor it He said it's counterfeit to think that cowardice lengthens life; bravery shortens it This is the author of the warrior poets The inordinate glorious that slaughtered by the lawless I know that all the rawness that the hearts could harness The healing tears applauded on performance, flawless My God, if these four walls could talk Drum chops have heard it all His eyes were dead, mine always been albino red My God, if these four walls could talk Drum chops have heard it all His eyes were dead, mine always been albino red My God