[Chorus: Mark Question]
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
[Verse 1: Mark Question]
Ya, ya!
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
Am I really Mark? Or am I Peter Parker
In the game with Tony Stark? Just stalking a white babe
Home and watch her go to bed, and wake up the next day
When the news pronounce her dead, because you know my deeds
And you know I bleed, a hundred and forty
Characters on your Twitter feed, tweet! Tweet! Gazza tweeted
Me and my crew are the best as far as hip hop
But we about to go global, this is a pit stop
I'm refueling, so quit drooling on yourself
Every time you see me swell into a giant presentation
Of what most of you perceive as the standard classical skinny guy
Never die for my city, I'd rather the effin' city died
FNCC art on my mind when I'm smoking these trees
I'm displeased with the number of Kwaitos that are wearing
DCs
You know that they don't skateboard and that's what they were made for
May 4th, for Star Wars geeks having a face-off
I'm Adolf when I hit her with some of that seventy seventy
Seventy megahert interceptive rhyme spitter
So speak up, young blood, 'cause I can't hear you over the sound of
A thousand people waiting for my shit to drop
[Chorus: Mark Question]
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
[Verse 2: AliThatDude]
I'm feeling like life is crumbling
Right before my eyes and I cannot do a thing, so I
Turn to the pen and the pad, hoping to
Lift all of the evil spirits a nigga had
Be away with you muthafuck keep me from thinking straight
They say time waits for no man, and I ain't got time to wait
Better yet waste, I'm 24, trying to make haste and get my dough
Better not fail at college, the pressures on, what you know? Got a nigga feeling
All alone, so I stick to myself, on my own
Don't say nothing to no man, truth be told, not that social
Better way to rhyme's to express my vocals and the pain that I feel inside
Can drive a nigga loco, don't feel alive, only feel so-so, so, so I...
[Chorus: Mark Question]
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
[Verse 3: Mark Question]
They tell me speak of the devil, I never speak of the devil
'Cause when I speak of the devil he will go out and he'll meddle
In my affairs, sinking my boat, burning a flare
I keep my violent exes in phone books listed in pairs
I'll turn a hot day into a dance in the rain
On a scale that they measured Pac's body, we weighed about the same
Because we both had uncanny skills with the notepad
I'd rather not talk about the things that we both had
I'd rather talk about the things we didn't, like a ghost dad
'Cause you are not the man that makes you, I am Seku
I am long negotiations waiting for a breakthrough
I am the only Asian in this class with a space suit
So geeks, humble yourselves (Why?) I might mumble a
Name or two in my sleep about dudes I look up to
But I'd never say it, I'm only a fan when I'm sedated
And fuck a fan, you're only my fam if we're related
[Chorus: Mark Question]
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
I hope they write that I was righteous
I hope they write that the kid was writing with arthritis
At night with a bleeding pen, with the power to
Make soldiers from civilians, so am I really him?
[Poem: Nikolai Tjongarero]
My best poems are the ones I'm not ready to write, and even though their words and rhymes keep hitting my creative receptors like battering-rams sent by the speed of what I have always been afraid to release them into the vindictive scrutiny of, the light, it’s not the battle with the shadows that I’ve battled with all my life
See, I won that war a long time ago, and thinking that I’m coming for my own crown is just the type of disillusioned-foolery that will result in your sudden departure from the comfort of your perceived supremacy, at its highest point of solitary revelry
Now, the fact that they have never and, thus, probably won’t ever attempt to understand why my royalty runs deeper than what depths and heights could ever retain with the aim to restrain is exactly why my proclamations must remain reserved within the form of a cellular membrane
