Beautiful Things

Going out to 24th and Nicholas, things will be more, Holly Street

Verse 1:
Let me clear my whistle and get to my bulk of issues
Is it true?
People claim rappers gotta be criminals
If not it’s implied or I guess it’s subliminal
I never was a gangster, more of a painter
I just love the studio more, I ain’t a saint, bruh
I believe rap can do more than top charts
If you got heart and this is what Pac taught
So my art tries to embody what I know’s real
To most ‘cause it’s inside me
Just a touch of reality from the life-imitates-art writer
And that’s why it sounds unique
So now you see what the music’ll bring
Guess that qualifies as an unusual thing
Sing, if you know what true music could mean
Tell the world about O’hene, it’s a beautiful thing
I’m saying

(*Sampled artist singing “beautiful things” on repeat*)

Verse 2:
I got Jill Scott in my Discman, I love that disc, man
She made me proud to be from North Phil
I grew up around 22nd and Lee High
Where niggas’ll squeeze Glocks over some Reeboks
Mothers’ll be high, whoring they self
For a hit while they kids be supporting they self
Needles in the parking lots where the kids play
Them older kids break it up with their switchblades
Granny's dismay shown on entire face
She pray to God her grandkids get higher grades
Seeing straight Fs, them cats hookeying school
On the block, selling rocks just to rock them jewels
Inconsiderate, that’s why Bill called us illiterate
Them ignorant niggas come to your doorstep with ignorance
So think about it when you moving your ‘caine
On the same block grandmama’s moving the cane
Those ain’t

(*Sampled artist singing “beautiful things” on repeat*)

Verse 3:
My second child made heaven smile
Even though when I was told she would be born
I was in denial, I couldn’t believe that it was possible
God would do this again
Even though I had been irresponsible
Me and my first barely kick it
I’m busy writing raps, making beats
‘Cause I believe that’s our ticket
Dig it, I see it like if I blew up
Then my daughters wouldn’t grow up the way I grew up
Having to duck strays ‘cause you playing on the block
If not, get shot, you laying on the block
Or sniff pot, six cops are spraying on the block
I’m looking for the day that it stop
Peace and justice are (“beautiful things”)
Can you feel me? The world is lost
There’s more places than Philly
‘Cause really I just wanna do a few things
To travel is to learn, and that’s a beautiful thing
I’m saying

(*Sampled artist singing “beautiful things” on repeat*)