A Preachers Paradise by Scorzayzee
Mysterious was the artist.
No… the artist hid from normality
only showed the sword when the sun was in its highest zenith
to blind the enemy so the artist wouldn’t have to slice willingly.
They killed shows, bodied emcees, murdered beats
toe tagged each other over and over.
I’ve seen a man pull out a magnum 45
the nozzle was something dirty harry would be pleased with
My jaw froze, I was about to witness real murder.
On that night I saw what rappers talk about.
Life seemed greener than ever
every tree, every animal that breathes became precious
I woke and all the gangster rap that I ever listened to
became a reality.
My jaw froze. I had so much training, Ice Cube, Ice T
Scarface, Nas, Jay-Z
Because I was safe in my own world… until worlds collided
“Blam blam” didn’t seem like a boast on a 90’s song
it was just a loud bang bang and smoke
panic and blood
To give life, plant life, serve life, is nothing to do with chivalry
Bad man this, bad man that, when your whole neighbourhood becomes hooked on dope
you either write about it, sell it, consume it or move.
A preachers paradise.
I seen good kids get full life as confused young men
I seen good kids become walking stealing machines
I came from an area that at 8 years old just cared about football.
Then grown ups happened. I seen the reality of the music I had been a fan of
hit my town. All that bad man energy and cool vibe now became
life and death.
Funny thing is I realised it wasn’t money that corrupted hearts
it was hopelessness
We all knew we would never be rich because our parents worked
and argued about money
I used to blame the Queen herself because they were arguing over some bitch
on a piece of paper made by people unknown to the majority.
Kids are smart, they know something is wrong, that’s why they become the angry
man in the dole office, kicking and screaming on the conveyor belt
knowing that every day they will have to spend time with some strangers
boasting about how much they drank on Friday night
No fucking choice mate. Chill with them bums whenever they say the shift rotation is.
Pride is like a gladiator, pride can slice a chest, defraud a family, Sell some white shit
to some tramp so they can be their own boss.
No more orders from Mr Life Coach who sucked a billion dicks for 3 pound extra an hour.
Years go by and every summer the police swoop like giant dust pans and brushes.
They always knew anyway, kids were just on some masonic chess board
They need drugs and crime you see. Because if drugs were legal and poor people
couldn’t make money from it, then violent robberies would increase tenfold and that
would be bad for the property market, tourism and the plan.
First rate country with third world problems? Nah mate
They need crack, crime and organised crime.
Politics and elections is just one question that the aristocracy ask
that question is “How would you like to be fucked?’
Do you want your burger with fries or do you want your fries with your burger?
Go college and become the top heart surgeon and you will still earn less
than some entrepreneur. The secret is learn to be greedy and exploit. Invent some shit
that solves a billion lazy people’s problems and you can be in the club.
Try being in the club all on your own and see how fast your business collapses.
You know how many patents these rich bar stewards own? Enough for the next 20 years
So there’s no choice. Like I said you either write about it, sell it, consume it or move…
A preachers paradise.
Microphone truth champions, tell me shit I already knew in my heart without names, dates and faces. I see hopelessness but heedlessness is a preachers paradise.
Nobody needs to change, change is for future dictators telling somebody else shit they already know.
The only way we take out the top 1% is if we ourselves are willing to sacrifice our own comforts and desires. A preachers paradise. Anyone with a pure heart will view leadership as the biggest burden and test. A test that should only be taken if they are willing to give up paradise.
Where are we now? We’re in a preachers paradise.
Keep spitting the truth and like water drops on the same rock it will eventually carve out a groove
The groove will pass on genetically and one day the preachers paradise will be just paradise.
Hard work is life, you don’t work you don’t get shelter food and clothes.
Paradise is always depicted as a garden. Well today I mowed my lawn listening to hip hop
It’s not the greatest garden because I like comfort and ease. If I liked my garden more than the
other shit I deem Important I might be qualified to tell other people how to grow theirs. I have still not made it out of the preachers paradise.
Peace, bigups and thank-you to Scorzayzee for contributing this to the Where Are We Now? festival blog. His new EP - Illa Scorz - is out now. Check out Illa World below...
Scorzayzee will be performing at Where Are We Now? on Saturday 3rd June
SCORZAYZEE ILLA SCORZ E.P now available:
Scorzayzee (direct) http://scorz.co.uk
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