Always Shine

[Hook: Bilal]

Your inner heart, your inner mind

You're the star that will always shine

Forever you'll be with me

[Verse 1: Lupe Fiasco]

Uh, it go like

You ever see the inner depths of a man's soul?

Or ninja turtles pouring out of manholes?

This is balance

Between a comic and a conscious, that's the challenge

Between the solitary and the conference that I examines

That I imagine was a figure

Would be the start of world peace and the transformation of niggas

Like the transubstantiation of liquor

But that's just turnin' them into blood

And we'll be right back where we was

Not a peace-sign, but a fascination with scissors

So I can cut

Myself off from the calculations of empress, empires, and the sinners

For advancement of human suffering

And other things trying to impede my publishing and editorials

That's gon' bring it back to us again

A boomerang minus Halle Barry and Eddie and everybody fucking and huh'

[Hook: Bilal]

[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]

Shotgun

Even though independent cars ain't got one

I got some and more to spare

No more despair

My motor-ware don't match my motivate to mate

Also I drive to stay alive and ride this over there

My momma so mad, so no alcohol in here

I'm Aries Spears on my Jay-Z shit

Affion on the Drake skit

Now how many more can I make with just one voice

They might call it fake shit

This some deep shit

It's my me impersonatin' we shit

Vicariously in every rap I speak with

I hope you're speakin' for me, if I'm ever speechless

Cause I'mma be you

Even though you're not here to be with

I hope I see these gangsters actin' like teachers

Wake up out they sleep, dare to dream

In a world so Martin Luther King-less

[Hook: Bilal]

[Outro: Lupe Fiasco]

And to my hero Heron, Gil Scott

In a discourse with Baldwin

On a jet plane with no fear for fallin'

But wishin' it never lands

Reminiscent of the dream time

Presently en route to the rise of the machine time

Magazine times

With coffee more sugar and milk than coffee

Aborted rhymes, rotten beats, and failed hooks

Roads as bumpy as braille books

Fail cools, bad French, and mad push at the door

Gourmet food at the starving soiree

A choice of one easy woman at a time

I'll take three the hard way

Trying to be as abstract as possible

And vulgar, the more shocking the more profitable

A baby fed molten gold

And sat upon a pedestal promote getting called 24 carot souls

How to describe this

Insightful remarks such as the best thing I've ever heard is silence

Some more technically impressive

In a faux Spanish romantic hues of a Marxist dialectic

Pleasing to the critics, but pointless is the common passerby

Might as well not even exist, not even a bit

In the event of my demise give everything I prize to the poor

And to the oppressors, I leave a war

And so on and so forth