Khalil Nasim - Intro

And there he was
A miracle baby
Born on the coldest day of December
In the middle of a spiritual warfare
Who brought joy and relief to all
Nasim
A breath of fresh air
A gentle and refreshing breeze
The curious child
Committed to academia
Curious of the craft
Perverted by the media
A victim of the times
The bright adolescent
Whose external light stripped the joy from inside
Merely a cover
Loyal and committed
But unforgivably flawed
Overtaken by guilt
Committing himself therefore to the art that makes him
An acceptance of self
The gentle nomad
Who knows no home
Only in self
The progenitor of this legacy
Committed to all things progressive and good
All things loving and true
A bucket for the tears of the weary
A cover for the cold heart
Khalil
A good friend
Those in search of will always find
I'm on my way home
Home meaning self
And no matter how high I fly
I will always be
Sheeda's Back Baby
This is the sound of the struggle
Like replacing that book bag for a duffle
Dropped out of school to make some moves
But never got into trouble
Them boys in blue is after you
No matter who you been hustling for
Touching that bubbling raw
Or tryna live your life humble and run with the Lord
If it's a war going on then we running with swords
But think lyrically, I'm killing beats when I record
Nigga, the fuck you thinking
Like when W. Fard Muhammad had left the physical plane
A disappearance most modern philosophers can't explain
A baby born in Oxford but was raised across the county line
Finally finds comfort in the home in which he proudly lies
Most would call it a divine visitation
Or benign imitation
Of the lines that we been basing our lives upon
A dead spirit in the world, revived in song
Deprived but strong
I survived the storm
For every time my mama sacrificed a meal so that I could eat
I let the anunnaki speak
The voice of God hidden deep within the texture
So no this ain't no ordinary lecture
Extraordinary pressure on my shoulders
Better than my opponents
what's fresher than my persona
Probably just my aroma
Yeah the kid is wicked
Stupid gifted, sickest penman that you know
Name a nigga that can flow iller
Cold killer
This is the sound of the struggle
Mama working to get her baby some food, left with his granny
She working like she the nanny
Making sure he with family
'Cause the only thing thicker than blood is real love
His pops was a real thug
But never with malicious intent
Just doing shit for his pockets to fill up
Couple years pass, mama send her baby to school
She make it to school
Trying her best to make it, it's cool
Just making her moves
Her man put his hands on her
Call her baby daddy, he pull up with the tool
Fire one up in the air and then he dipped off
Shots fired, police come around
No one dead so it's nothing to do
My daddy never came around, so I got something to prove
Yes I'm a man, you can tell it from the way that I move
Seen him lie up in that casket with
A whole lot of baggage, shit
Mama cried her eyes out, I told her dry your eyes now
We keep it pushing, doing what we gotta do
My ride or die, whatever mama do, I'm like, I follow you
She found another lover years later
I'm 14, another man before me
I feel hatred, still waited
Divorce papers 2 years later
Another couple years wasted but she still patient
Like she still a patient, facing more iller conditions
Heart racing, rushing to the ER, feeling suspicious
But she still a witness
Mama give me hugs and kisses, baby turned into a grown man
With his own plan
Tryna reach the homeland
Living in the modern world just tryna beat the program
And see my name in lights before my body cop a toe tag
Khalil Nasim, and BLK FEEL my team
I'ma fulfill my dreams
Make these bars reach farther than the mils y'all seek
Life and death is in the tongue so just kill y'all speech
You ever thought about the lives of the kids y'all reach
It's niggas all across the world going through it, needing therapeutic music
So I've come to conclusions
Ignore all of the fortune and fame
And give these folks something more for they brain
But keep it simple
It's a process to give a nigga something he can digest
I digress
Consistently focused on my progress
I guess it's a long road to the top
And once I get there I hope I never flop
Real shit
This for my family still stuck in the box
They call me Sheeda's Black Baby just in case you forgot
Nigga

Written by:
Khalil Nasim

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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