Le Flaneur

The flaneur prostitute radical root
Buried deep underground where the DJ’s loot
They shoot but don’t stop the vacant hip-hop
Like the old school we’re known to let the beat drop
Recognize with your eyes and the plot widens
We can’’t stop the dreaming screaming of sirens
I’m Osiris, she is the flyest
Her walk is unmistakably Isis
Succumb to the drum and the bass won’t quit
Poets pimp themselves when they talk that shit
The man can’t put no thing on me
In this fast culture its hard to be
Calm relaxed like some old jazz stacks
Into the vortex who want to flow next
Waking up folks with the dialect
Resurrect like an architect

Dialectics we spin it, we spin it back
We're interdepedent cause we kick it like that
Whether we're all alone or the place is packed
Drop rhythms for the people cause the beats are stacked

I idle through town with a beat that’s down
To the cats in the back how do you like that sound
Noise and color fills my atmosphere
If I walk long enough I’m no longer here
Disappear in the faceless stream of beats
The origins of blast is New York streets
We retreat when the 5-0 starts to show
Always trying to stop this hip-hop show
I idle downtown where the records sell
Then back to my place where the leftists dwell
We make art like music, still pragmatic
Resist the colonizers automatic
I sleep in this culture each and every day
I’m one emcee with no DJ.
Disseminated in this world of illusion
I’ve trained and master the arts of confusion
The jazz, the blues, and the rock n roll
The old school hip-hop with the naked soul
When the emcee stands there she’s all alone
Set it off on this microphone

Dialectics we spin it, we spin it back
We're interdepedent cause we kick it like that
Whether we're all alone or the place is packed
Drop rhythms for the people cause the beats are stacked

Dipping off to sleep think start to fantasize
My baby's so fly with her cat green eyes
Then I wake up to the sounds of TV
All these news reporters man you can't see me
Your analysis is reputable but don't apply
I come from the underground an underground spy
Countdown is on 'til my mind detonates
Shifting like friction like techtonic plates
What is ideal? Ideal is never real
Econcomic systems can't express how I feel
When I get that urge, that itchy trigger urge
I tap into my soul and plug a little surge
Running through my body, hectic, intoxicates
My mental enemies it exacerbates
It don't stop, my life is too real
It don't stop, I be what I feel

Dialectics we spin it, we spin it back
We're interdepedent cause we kick it like that
Whether we're all alone or the place is packed
Drop rhythms for the people cause the beats are stacked



(c) 2007 Eric Wilkinson