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r.a.p. ferreira – begonias lyrics

[verse 1: r.a.p. ferreira]
chaos and order, clay pestle and mortar
700 rotations, i won’t say anymore
the day obeys the clay more. facts aren’t always congruent
i’m sure we can agree god is a black woman
shapes from under the rug
drill bits covered in blood, i can’t count past a bunch
ain’t even been sentenced, lookin’ for redemption
i play the greens, eat the blues, read the funny pages
avoid the news, it’s nothing new
pickled morals, i too want some n+gga spoils
[?], me and two appolonias
pickin’ begonias in fredonia, nevermore
this rhyme don’t have a single metaphor, i wrote this
in a temple that’s also a record store, somehow i never made sense
but it always paid the bills. back in my day we called that– sk!lls, sk!lls, sk!lls
i’m an escape merchant, mastering the 5th through 8th circuits
time and again, i have to learn patience’s purpose
i’m always trying to cut the line, bifurcate the parallel
very well, and that’s my liberation from h+ll. my
rocket mechanism pocket symphony specimism at the
buffet to update my poetic weapon system
blessed with the ism at a young age, very early on
tales from the deep end, it always felt cheapened
when they claimed to be demons, as if a human wasn’t much worse
there’s no depths to their bloodthirst
ay, but what’s a goon to a goblin?
one of them nights where the moon get to wobblin’ and troops be booty nekkid
on street corners. i ain’t no streets reporter, i’m a poet
redguard, ruby yacht head garb to keep people thoughts out
daywalkers stroll about, i think you holdin’ out but that’s all right
(that’s all right, but that’s all right, but that’s all right)
out here on [?] boulevard
where n+ggas will pull your card, and a poet keep a poky on him
plums from the garden
[verse 2: hprizm]
p, this is reminiscent of
moments i kept in an album, i left a child
standin up in the crib, lookin’ over the edge with life ahead
while mics, life, and dreams collide, force
me to go outside, the step and slides across floor
mechanized precision, my mind’s different, infinite options
for how to let it drop and make it rise, appearin’
like craft to the naked eyes, when babylons capsize
and flooded, from the backdrop the holders of the culture
stayed alive through verses, pack roaches to back down vultures
i ignite and let it burn down to the roach clip
then’d wrap and repack that, push caps back
my pops sat me down and said “son, be a one of one”
i painted abstract after that. became
more acquainted with the end of the set of my pen
new levels, new devils, there’s no beginnin’ and no end

[verse 3: r.a.p. ferreira]
time beckons nearer
i found myself outside of mirrors
the balance beam made the callous seem insincere
impaired, i’m a wizard no matter what clothes i wear
in the war, i bear the weight of the torn. my rhyme book
for a handful of blue corn, there’s a lot of things i couldn’t
move on, or from, imagine using a coupon
for a gun only to steal a life, from a place they do that
if your shoes is too nice, must be why we wore the ugly ones
must be why i can’t speak my mother tongue, cause we don’t know it
had to become a poet and invent one. been to h+ll and
back and then some, so i thought you had said somethin’
and i was ready to exterminate over that. from the dark corner
of the map readin’ “here be dragons”, time lashes
i’ve been both baskin’ and robbin’. failed class
but mastered my options, it’s r.a.p. ferreira, n+gga
mastered the error, n+gga, and now i’m a terror, n+gga
and now i’m a terror
[outro: spoken word sample]
…want my own voice in art to be far from polite. i don’t think i’m someone that wants to dress something up to make it more digestible for a viewer, i think that especially in this case, it’s pretty raw

- r a p ferreira lyrics

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