1987

Acid-wash Guess with the leather patches

Sportin' the white Diadoras with the hoodie that matches

I'm wearing two Swatches and a small Gucci pouch

I could have worn the Lugi but I left it in the house

Now, my niggas Duce and Wayne got gold plates with their names

With the skyline on it with the box link chain

I'm wearing my frames

They match my gear with their tint

And you know Lagerfields is the scent

Now, my nigga Rafael just got his jeep out the shop

Mint green sidekick, custom-made rag top

"Strictly Business" is the album that we play

"You're A Customer"; the pick of the day

Now there's a nigga on the block, never seen him before

Selling incence and oil, my man thinks that he's the law

But why on earth would this be on their agenda?

As he slowly approaches the window..

"Uh, uh, I've seen you before, I've been you and more

I was the one bearing the pitcher of water

I rent the large upper room

Furnished with tidings of your doom

Or pleasure, whichever feathers[?] decree."

Yo Ralph is he talking to me?

"No I'm talking to the sea son's resurrected

I'm the solstice of the day

I bring news from the blues of the Caspian"

My man laughs, he's one them crazy motherfuckers

Turn the music back up - 'cause I'm the E-Double'

"Wait, but but but but I know the volume of the sea

And sound waves as I will

Will you allow me to be at your service?"

My man Ralph is nervous. He believes

That this strange tounge deceives

And maybe he's been informed that

He's pushing gats hidden in the back, beneath the floor mats

Come on Jack, we don't have time

For your bullshit or playin

A'salaam a something' or another

"Wait isn't Juanita your mother?

I told you I know you, now grant me a moment"

At the gates of Atlantis we stand

Ours is the blood that flowed from the palms of his hands

on the plow till earth

till I'm now

Moon cycles revisited, womb fruit of the sun

Full moon of occasions wave the wolves where they run

And they run towards the light casting love on the winds

As is the science of the aroma of sleeping women

Lost in his eyes they soon reflect my friend's are grinning

But I'm a pupil of his sight

The wheels are spinning

Yo I'll see ya'll later on tonight

In the beginning her tears where the long awaited rains

Of a parched Somali village

Red dusted children danced shadows

In the newfound mound of mascara that eclipsed her face

Reflected in the smogged glass of carlos east street bodega

Learning to love, she had forgotten to cry