NY Weather Report - Talib Kweli

Come on… yeah

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everybody who been ridin' with me so

far

It’s been a long journey

But they say your life’s path is not about the destination, it’s all about the

journey

I appreciate y’all

It’s my blood, sweat, tears, years of struggle, love, hate, fear

New York City, you can make it here you can make it anywhere

I came prepared for the rain, hail, sleet, snow

Whatever the weather, we ride, let my people go

To the place where knowledge is born

We walkin' in the third eye of the storm, check it out

Futuristic lyricist, straight from the renaissance

Top of the supper chain, rap’s upper echelons

My people sufferin', slave to another chain

This voyage is maiden, like my mother other name

Is this your first trip to hell?

We venture capitalists

If it’s a product, then we got it for sale

When I first started to spell, my words fell into rhymes

Turned into songs, everything else fell into line

I painted pictures you could see, the people bleed in my bars

When I was a teen I was mean, about to reach for the stars

So if I fell, I fell right in the cloud, tighten the valve

Niggas is watered down, used to be no bitin' allowed

Now they gangstas, no cryin' allowed

You probably see a fight on the stage before you see a fight in the crowd

I send this out to my people facin' the storm, homey we ridin' it out

You inspire what I’m writin' about

It’s my blood, sweat, tears, years of struggle, love, hate, fear

New York City, you can make it here you can make it anywhere

I came prepared for the rain, hail, sleet, snow

Whatever the weather, we ride, let my people go

To the place where knowledge is born

We walk into the third eye of the storm, check it out

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the third eye of the storm

Check it out (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Check it out (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Check it out (ha, ha, ha)

We ain’t fuckin around (uh uh)

I’m not a judge, but I’m handin' out sentences

For political prisoners, and regular inmates with no visitors

Niggas in the street outside the reach of the ministers

Not those that say «spiritual,» but actual partitioners

Rap listeners who be openin' Black businesses

This underground shit with samples that lack clearances

Once you get past appearances, you can tell whose shit is fake

Or whose shit is based on past experience

You really been to war hand to hand like crack sales

Building man to man, they tryna kill off the black male

Females left to raise up her son, from the day he was one

Til he twenty and he raise up a gun

And get to blazin' for his place in the sun

The smoke grazin' his lung, young in his years and he facin' a ton

None of his peers wanna share the role of child care provider

But they’ll hit a nigga blunt and share saliva

You ain’t a rider and you hustlin' backwards

Too many equate success with imitating these crackers

So our kids lookin' up to drug dealers and rappers

We takin' all the work away from the Black actors

Revelation is first and Armageddon is after

Tsunamis and hurricanes, natural disasters

The fast food culture, speed is always a factor

Instant gratification, they want the cash faster

It’s my blood, sweat, tears, years of struggle, love, hate, fear

New York City, you can make it here you can make it anywhere

I came prepared for the rain, hail, sleet, snow

Whatever the weather, we ride, let my people go

To the place where knowledge is born

We walk into the third eye of the storm, check it out

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the third eye of the storm

It’s the place where knowledge is born

Check it out (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Check it out (ha, ha, ha, ha)

Check it out (ha, ha, ha)

Talib Kweli

That’s what it is, break it down

Paranorm, I perform through a storm