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heems - you have to ride the wave lyrics

[intro: arundhati roy]

“..and we grew up outside the realm of all protections that society chose to offer it’s members
and so at a very young age one was aware of the fact that you were not going to be given those protections
and you…you had to constantly try to understand what was going on and how to survive in this sp-ce
uh…and how not to…to go under. you’re on your own, and then, politics is in your life
you have to ride the wave.”

[verse 1: danny brown]

loose bogies with parolees tthat got locked up when kobe had an afro
look b-tch, it’s daniel
eat it like a cantaloupe
b-tches treat the demon like a youth potion antidote
no b-tch, we can’t elope
but we can hit the slopes
doing so much snow, like skiing with your eyes closed
extraterrestrial, extra with groupies
got ’em eating coochie in a downtown condo
ya b-tch look like rondo, and mine jane fonda
hit you with a hundred slaps n-gga, e honda
n-ggas see me always give me dap, but they don’t wanta
hoes always talk behind my back and be frontin’
b-tch, see i’m stuntin’
all your vintage clothes
thrifting with your girlfriend, let her try my d-ck on
n-gga you a sitcom, about to get cancelled
napping at the bull run, about to get trampled
first try to play me, make a man example
these ain’t came out yet, they hit me with the sample
rap louis c. k
bored with having three-ways, about to have a foursome
and all of them asian
smoking on some haze got me looking just like ’em
head in the hotel, watching teen t-tans
zoned off that vicodin
after we finished and they wanna try again?
#style!

[verse 2: mr. m-th-f-ckin exquire]

ayo, this n-gga ain’t even send me my f-cking beats, son…
ayo, first of all…
f-ck mike finito for making this beat
he said he got me, but he never send no f-ckin’ heat to me
so now you’re dead to me, you’re history
you see me, don’t say sh-t to me
you bring your girlfriend to das racist’s show she getting d-ck from me
they say i’m such a mystery
i’m ghetto yet articulate
some how this guy from out the projects live, but still find time to read
dostoevsky, howard zinn, donald goines, phillip k. d-ck, and dr. seuss and use the moral as a muse
obtuse, left angle
i’m mentally bent, mangled
untangling my brain
with that swedish fish pinnacle
i mix it with pineapple
vic twistin’ that white rhino
we fixin’ to stick d-ck in two b-tches thats albino
ridiculous sh-t
n-ggas need chips from this sh-t
some rotten chicken and empty entenmans ini mi fridge…
enter my inner enemy, into my insecurities
intent on ending any, intentions of being happy ya think?
…and life is a cigarette, death is an ash tray
sound like one of them lines lil wayne’d say
my impersonation
my interpretation (heems!)
i bring you heems without further lyrication

[verse 3: heems]

hindu ralph ellison, yo you can’t see me
i’m in a silk robe at the bank copping cds
with guap that i made by selling these cds
and guap that i saved by having a great cv
yo yo yo yo yo, that’s a curriculum vitae
i could always say, “i did it my way.”
got vagabond shoes, and they stray all day
the st. john’s way, to bombay project hallways
if there ever is a problem
heems’ll want to solve ’em
my partner then’ll solve him
the jury’ll absolve him
the sentence of a mobster
i can sense it, it’s something like the doppler
radar
you’re on my g-y friend’s g-ydar
something like a leper, you can’t touch me
never turn my brain off, it never get dusty
your chicks is busted, my chicks is busty
up late on twitter, i talk to salman rushdie
like it’s just me and him
i got dirt on you, doggie
you like she & him
schemin’ and
all the biddies say to me, “you’re swell.”
she got a beautiful box, joesph cornell
got a lisp like stewart, that’s kordell
and she from the west, that’s like cornell
your chick look like oprah, mixed with sammy sosa
and she got a d-ck where there’s supposed to be a chocha

[outro: heems]

yo yo yo (himanshu)
yo yo, peace to danny brown
peace to the bruiser brigade (#style!)
peace to mr. m-th-f-ckin exquire (brooklyn)
peace to arundhati roy talking to howard zinn at the beginning of the joint
produced by the one and only mike finito, my man since i was fourteen (richmond hill)
third world fam, you know what it is (corona, glenn oaks, melrose)
(?) squad
otk, out to k!ll (flushing)
aaron elmont(?)
long island and queens ((?), elmhurst)
you know, of course, cardozo bayside
van buren, john bowne, stuyvesant
you know (all of queens)
all the indian people in queens
minke finito (alright)
one (one)

- heems lyrics

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