Tornup - The Pedestrian

Questions you ask before your cousin's uncanny demise
Vanity lies
What is a black man's humanity size?
Answers divide us
Though united first as ancestors
Man's plan is in the damned hands of a virus
Insanity lies deep in soul
Deep in the muscle
And deep in the brain tissue that we use for control
Fuck The Man we despise
Fuck his cancerous lies
Let calamity rise
Aight then, niggas. I'll set the scene up

Travellin' on foot, I'm cleaned up from after work
Me and the diner team up
We gonna meet up in the neighborhood, kick feet up, and chill
While walking over, I can feel the night is silent and tranquil, but stirring its will
It's like a current moving my body though I'm determinedly still
Unnervingly ill late translations of familiar landscapes be handshaking with my anticipation
And The Jake is in a squad car waiting in the parking lot vacant
Of a gentrifying wine bar adjacent
Closed for the night, but whose consistency for emptiness, even while open, has earned a reputation
'I guess the cop secured the area!'
I say to myself while my laughter gets to quaking
We lock eyes while I'm inhaling
I discover hate

It's tangible like hot to the touch
I go on about my business, but he's bothered too much
He follows

I let my head relax and dread synapses casually shut off
Cause if that hoe was in his own car, he would actually fuck off
I hang a right towards my destination on to Desolation Row and without further hesitation
He turns on his red, white, and blue lights illuminating
Gets out the car and asks me, 'Fuck you tryna do?'
He's baiting
Tells me, 'Step to the side of the car!'
I calmly comply
Soon as we're out of the view of the dash cam, he tries to get sly
And without telling me why
He tries to sweep my legs, but can't qualify
He pulls out his heat and

Goddammit, I don't wanna die...

Written by:
Torry Finley

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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