Blue Scholars

Blue Scholars - Inkwell

rate me

Yo, you ever go outside at night, look up into the sky, into the big, immense sky…and think to yourself that’s a big sky!

Like an inkwell…

In a city that’s been waiting to blow since big butts and teen spirit

Many make music you can hear it, secluded in the upper left dominantly grey-shaded skies

Every other day, sorta like the Bay

Just a little bit wetter And cold in the winter

Proximity to water make the soul a little gentler

Out of towners don’t be knowin about the best-kepts

Ain’t nothing better than the summer in the northwest

Microphone check 1-206

Through the smoke, who da smoke, can I get a quick fix

To lift this eye to the level of needle in the sky

Lookin over the sound against the shores of the suicide capital

Bust the magical dust, grammatically just (?) the satellite

What makes seattle tight?

The fruits of this ripe in spite of all the bull,

And last second changes of plans

And prodigal sons, whose motto is run whenever possible

Watch Mr officer shoot before he aims

And claims self-defense in the name of the citizenry

Spd’s spread the city like an STD

I’m rollin’ rainier bumpin bets carefree

While the people sleep, I must speak till they wake

Let me push my pen to create

Beats, rhymes and life

Each time I write the fire ignites

I light the sky

There’s an infinite inkwell high above the city

Dip the pen steadily, sing the melody

They paved RKCNDY and put up a parking lot

It was a spot for them and it was hot

And then the cops lit it up when the thugs fisticuffs

Then the mayor was quick to up and pin it on hip hop

Shows got dropped for us in the block crush

What’s left of the scene, rose up from the dust

It must have been many times overfrustrated

To watch the downfall of those who could’ve made it live

Some waited for the next mixalot to blow

Others made moves said ‘shit we got to grow’ but

Time moves slow when the clock’s overweight

Meaning those who wait as opposed to create

But those who make bread and not break the mold

I was only 19 but my rhymes were bold

When the things got for real I got up in the fold

And put up into practice all that I was told

Wickedia came up and showed love

We called ourselves ‘Phase’ and ironically it was

Became the last kid still writing at 9-5

B-town ciphers with tale and justify

Moved to the city started posing as a journalist

To get press passes and prove instead

Put down the pen, picked up the mic

Came in for competitor’s heads

And when I got down severin several losin

Started getting down with hella producers

They welcomed me into the big house

But they didn’t feel the city so they moved back south

And other dudes weren’t even worth it to work with

And if I see wonders about to believe a word of it

You get two double zero one

The trouble just begun to bear fruit

At the end of a troubling youth, Sabzi got me to speak over beats

Like the key to unlock me, and I’ll be damned

Ten years the summer I began I’m still up in the lab

Other people sleep I must speak til they wake

Now let me push this pen to create

While the people sleep I must speak til they wake

Now let me push this pen to create

A Beat’s, rhymes and life

Each time I write the fire ignites

I light the sky

There’s an infinite inkwell high above the city

Dip the pen steadily, sing the melody (repeat)

Thanks to Dave for these lyrics

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

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