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devine carama - soul dreams (nas tribute) lyrics

devine carama (hook)
soul dreams from a slave born a king, fertilizing the soil in which we planted a seed/ young kids dream of being an mc, everybody looking for something…

soul dream from a slave born a queen, single mama in night school getting a college degree/ strips to pay her bills and take of her seeds, everybody looking for something…

(verse 1)
the older gods put on the math, stronger than moses’ staff, i went from mental overdraft into folding cash/nothing on my mind but knowledge and wisdom and understand his plan, my options college or go to prison/ or throwing pitches, like baseball, or dope pitching that yay y’all, or a solider militant going awol/ my flow relentless, like mike but i could go the distance, flows precision is right tighter than boa constriction/ hold the mic with soul and wisdom, control the light, by hold the prism to the right until i glow envision/ a bar pattern that god patten, actually a sharpened scalpel or gravity trying to spar with matter/ i need queen with a body badder than paula patton, in greek mythology with the bars they probably call me atlas/ got the world on my shoulders or maybe paul patton, just my state on my delts homie until sh-lls blow me….

(verse 2)
i’m more a less the one working while the lord chills, on the sabbath erecting statues with a sword and shield/ paying homage to past, presently the future, i survived the blood pouring on the battle fields/ i got dreams of conscious rap in the mainstream, where the queens get holla at, while the wh0r-s deal/ with lonely nights, and bone me plights by throne stewart’s, i can’t stand a hood rat so a lay with a queen/i dream of fountains of fiji water that bring youth, a modern malcom and martin marching to bring truth/ angelic creatures with african features spitting verses, straight from heaven with a mic & they can sing too/ bunch of l-boogies bringing me from where h-ll took me, and my spiritual is throwing up what the devil cooked me/blood of a slave, soul of king, resurrected our fallen solders, in my soul when i dream….

(verse 3)
these are the ancient doctrines that scholars honor and prophets written, strategically for glock spitters with no pot to p-ss in/ i’m john the baptist to these frauds rapping and cons for cash, i’m strong verbally merge bob lashley and bob backlund/ bars immaculate like that orange dragon on avatar, like y’all wings chained or i’m just a crane amongst a flock of chickens/i’m an honest lyricist, nonfiction to you story tellers, you bore me embellish with tales of swelling on blocks and pitching/and see y’all fall for chanel, ands her short skirt, you thinks it’s all swell until you feel that h-ll and your c-ck itching/i need a conscious queen that’s a left party radical, but when off the bacardi throws it back just like a lateral/takes sabbatical on the sabbath, just to attract fools, and once you captured she takes you back to tabernacle/ plus she never mess with them cowards, and she understand god is the one that gave you that power…

- devine carama lyrics

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