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Mingus Baby (prod. by Maschine Monk)

from Peace, Fam by Mykele Deville

/
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lyrics

Intro)

Them black boys carve pain into their backs
Spending youth hiding panic attacks
Taught to worship self annihilation and keeping that secret in tact
Just choosing to live be a radical act, its real and dont I know it

Verse 1:

I sit alone in my four cornered room staring at candles
Tagging repression I couldn't handle like a vandal
Depression got me searching for where the signal scrambled
I need to pinpoint
I roll a thin joint
But then i think, is this alleviation?
Or just another way to numb and keep my feet escaping...
A shackled slave tackling runaway thoughts
Dont know what to do if i caught one
Negotiating patience on the outskirts of plantations
"I wanna live, I wanna try!"
The thought be yelling up to me with panic in its eyes it buys some time
Disguised as reflection
I'm staring straight into a message:
Ancestral psyche was neglected then affected.
Shit I know it ain't no mystery.
Black & Brown retain the pain of human history
Abstain from seeking help
It may be tainted by a system made to help me hate myself
So fuck some therapy
Don't need no charity
I cant afford it lord
And now disorders got me sketching branching storyboards
Different agendas, mood shifting
I'm getting slender
My anger speaking foreign languages,
Cryptic dilemmas
I cant decipher feeling trapped like im on Rikers Island
Just wanna start the dialogue yall
Its hard to do it through these brick walls
Mental cement halls we tend to get lost
Just wondering, hovering over pitfalls
I try to think upon my great ghosts
They must've had to find some peace to keep from losing hope
Critiqued the scope of genius
Black brilliance sold as fiendish
You cant be great unless you battle with some inner demons
That's how they sell it right?

(Chorus)
They say he angry like Mingus, baby
Probably manic like Thelonius Monk
Look how his pride shrunk
Eyes shut
Is he about to get violent?
Yo why he screaming, never smiling?

(Repeat)

Verse 2:

This trauma generational,
passed down, irreplaceable.
Entangled in the roots
survive that we inspirational
lopsided ratios
its a thin line between breaking cycles and taking lives,
we dancing on it.
The rhythm romantic,
the river of madness overflowing,
The feeling is frantic,
just being alive moment to moment,
knowing you ain't really got no help
when the city making clubs out of centers built for health
yo that's bullshit.
But we ain't new to this we true to this creating bliss,
there be some hideous beauty inside the crevices,
our preference should be relieving where the pressure is,
we not nobody's fucking specimens,
our vulnerability ain't a liability,
we have to find that utility in our sensitivity,
it's all we got
I try my best to have the right exchange,
cause when I look up in the mirror I want to see change.
its real but:

(Chorus 2x)

Verse 3:

Echoes in my mind saying keep it quiet.
Echoes in my mind tryna stop the fire rising but I'm non-compliant.
I can't control when I burst, drink attention like I'm thirsty, it hurts me.
Im swelling with that paine mane.
I think America's against me tricked me saying Freedom v. Liberty
then pumped me full of false identity.
Yo of course I'm hearing voices, no choice,
just hone in on the one the one that's screaming:
PEACE!
please get your brother out them streets yo
PEACE!
please get your mother out them street yo
PEACE!
please get your sister out them streets yo
PEACE!
please get your neicey out them streets with
PEACE!
please get your nephew out them streets with
PEACE!
please try to do it with these beats like
PEACE!
please tell the truth when you speak like
PEACE!
please help the youth cause they you, yo
PEACE!
please stay alive know it's hard find
PEACE!
please know you're loved that's a start find
PEACE!
please take some time for yourself find
PEACE!
please put the pride on the shelf find
PEACE!

Find Peace 5x

credits

from Peace, Fam, released April 6, 2017
Produced By: Maschine Monk

Engineered By: Brok Mende

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all rights reserved

tags

about

Mykele Deville Chicago, Illinois

+Poet Rapper+
+Chicago +

I was born.
A pebble.
A pestilence.
The sickness
in the rock,
it formed
a skeleton.
Crystalized thoughts,
adorned,
with melanin.
The sands
in the clock,
They tick
and they tock,
ya dig?
... more

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