"The Remedy" lyrics
(feat. Q-Tip)
(from "Get on the Bus" Soundtrack)
Yo, we all got different things we got to deal with
We always are trying to put the blame on something else rather than sometimes looking at ourselves, recognizing a lot of the stuff that happens...but if we look within ourselves, we could prevent a lot of this nonsense
It's about relating back to the essence, where it all stems from
I'm-a do my thing over this drum, like a native tongue
[Q-Tip:]
Do what you will, if you feel that your steeze is real
Complicated with the skills over reel to reel
Brown skin is what I feel, my mind and body's appeal
Is to the no-frill mills, who hear the beats to chill
Constantly, I'm hearing Black Americans just sneering
Looking for a leader who can fill us up with either
Hitting us up with great emotional chat
About the fact
That the black
Is constantly held back
Like 50 tracks back in a relay race
And the white team's ahead
So let's keep up the pace
And I be needing something
To feed my logical taste
At the end of the race is there a paradise place?
Yo, we can't get involved in what the next man is doing
Material gain we put too much in pursuing
"Yo duke, I need this dough so we can step to this party"
But we can all mardi grati
Minus that shit in our body
"What that got to do with that"
'Cause kid that's the essence
Your physical presence
Embodies every lesson
You can't run the Rolls Royce if the engine is busted
Can't even life the knife to cut the mustard
What we need to do first
Now listen to this verse
Let's concentrate on our spiritual plate
Recognize your existence in this vast blue space
From a tiny cloud of blood
To the human beings with taste, sight, touch, smell
And sound
Let's deem it profound!
And prioritize this 'cause it was Allah's wish
"Allah? I'm God"
"No I don't believe that. That's a mystery"
"If God is so good why does shit be happening to me?"
There's divinity within
Because we come from the divine
A force that's not seen but you feel it every time
When the wind blows, and the world turns
And the rain drops, and the baby cries
And the bird flies, and the ground quake
And the stars gleam
So many things are evident of its existence
What we need to do is link it with persistence
Once we recognize that, we can move ahead
Native Tongue, Common Sense yo he's Hip-Hop bred
[Common:]
From the spiritual world my former life has developed
First person I lost close to me was Stella
Some of my mellows
Lost their mothers and their brothers
For them I feel empathy
But I ain't pouring out no liquor for no niggas
I pour my heart out when I see Dot out on the deck
Knowing two weeks ago he slapped-box with death
I hear of niggas dying in the wind-in the news
But when it's somebody you know it hits you
And emotions get bruised
I ain't been in your shoes
I won't judge you for knocking
Because the spirit of the ghetto says "You Gotta!"
They snatch you again from rock flippin'
Give back into the neighborhood, you better start kickin'
Stickin' stores
On the strip
I'm tired of Arabs giving me my change back
Devil bomb my yesterday
My tomorrow he never gave back
I lay back, looking at the ceiling
Wondering what can I do
So my homie won't have to be dealing
Not 'cause you serving and I'm rapping I'm better
Just different pieces to the puzzle of black life
That we have to put together, better ourselves
'Cause families we gotta raise
No matter how long the money
Shorter become the days
Men become like women
And no difference in the season
If you got popped five times
You breathing for a reason
Let's put the five tenure plan into progression
Before we count our paper
Count our blessings
We always are trying to put the blame on something else rather than sometimes looking at ourselves, recognizing a lot of the stuff that happens...but if we look within ourselves, we could prevent a lot of this nonsense
It's about relating back to the essence, where it all stems from
I'm-a do my thing over this drum, like a native tongue
[Q-Tip:]
Do what you will, if you feel that your steeze is real
Complicated with the skills over reel to reel
Brown skin is what I feel, my mind and body's appeal
Is to the no-frill mills, who hear the beats to chill
Constantly, I'm hearing Black Americans just sneering
Looking for a leader who can fill us up with either
Hitting us up with great emotional chat
About the fact
That the black
Is constantly held back
Like 50 tracks back in a relay race
And the white team's ahead
So let's keep up the pace
And I be needing something
To feed my logical taste
At the end of the race is there a paradise place?
Yo, we can't get involved in what the next man is doing
Material gain we put too much in pursuing
"Yo duke, I need this dough so we can step to this party"
But we can all mardi grati
Minus that shit in our body
"What that got to do with that"
'Cause kid that's the essence
Your physical presence
Embodies every lesson
You can't run the Rolls Royce if the engine is busted
Can't even life the knife to cut the mustard
What we need to do first
Now listen to this verse
Let's concentrate on our spiritual plate
Recognize your existence in this vast blue space
From a tiny cloud of blood
To the human beings with taste, sight, touch, smell
And sound
Let's deem it profound!
And prioritize this 'cause it was Allah's wish
"Allah? I'm God"
"No I don't believe that. That's a mystery"
"If God is so good why does shit be happening to me?"
There's divinity within
Because we come from the divine
A force that's not seen but you feel it every time
When the wind blows, and the world turns
And the rain drops, and the baby cries
And the bird flies, and the ground quake
And the stars gleam
So many things are evident of its existence
What we need to do is link it with persistence
Once we recognize that, we can move ahead
Native Tongue, Common Sense yo he's Hip-Hop bred
[Common:]
From the spiritual world my former life has developed
First person I lost close to me was Stella
Some of my mellows
Lost their mothers and their brothers
For them I feel empathy
But I ain't pouring out no liquor for no niggas
I pour my heart out when I see Dot out on the deck
Knowing two weeks ago he slapped-box with death
I hear of niggas dying in the wind-in the news
But when it's somebody you know it hits you
And emotions get bruised
I ain't been in your shoes
I won't judge you for knocking
Because the spirit of the ghetto says "You Gotta!"
They snatch you again from rock flippin'
Give back into the neighborhood, you better start kickin'
Stickin' stores
On the strip
I'm tired of Arabs giving me my change back
Devil bomb my yesterday
My tomorrow he never gave back
I lay back, looking at the ceiling
Wondering what can I do
So my homie won't have to be dealing
Not 'cause you serving and I'm rapping I'm better
Just different pieces to the puzzle of black life
That we have to put together, better ourselves
'Cause families we gotta raise
No matter how long the money
Shorter become the days
Men become like women
And no difference in the season
If you got popped five times
You breathing for a reason
Let's put the five tenure plan into progression
Before we count our paper
Count our blessings
