Artist: Robert Glasper Experiment f/ Bilal, Lupe Fiasco Album: Black Radio Song: Always Shine Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com [Intro: Lupe] Yes, yes, here we are again... Experiment... [Chorus: Bilal] Your inner heart, your inner mind You're the star that will always shine Forever you'll be with me [Lupe Fiasco] Uh, it go like... You ever see the inner depths of a man's soul? Or Ninja Turtles pourin out of manholes? It's this balance, between a comic and a conscious, that's the challenge Between the solitary and the conference that I examines That I imagine was a figure, would be the start of world peace and the transformation of niggas Like the transubstantiation of liquor But that's just turnin them into blood and we'll be right back where we was Not a peace-sign, but a fascination with scissors So I can cut, myself off from the calculations of empress, empires, and the sinners For advancement of human suffering and other things tryin to impede my publishing and editorials That's gon' bring it back to us again A +Boomerang+ minus Halle Berry and Eddie and everybody fuckin in HA~! How 'bout that? [Chorus] [Lupe Fiasco] Shotgun... Even though independent cars ain't got one I got some and more to spare No more despair, my motor wear don't match my motivate to mate Also I drive to stay alive and ride this over there My momma so mad, so no alcohol in here I'm Aries Spears on my Jay-Z shit, Affion on the Drake skit Now how many more can I make with, just one voice? They might call it fake shit, this some deep shit It's my me impersonatin we shit Vicariously in every rap I speak with I hope you're speakin for me, if I'm ever speechless Cause I'ma be you, even though you're not here to be with I hope I see these gangsters actin like teachers Wake up out they sleep, dare to +Dream+ in a world so Martin Luther King-less, HUH! How 'bout THAT? [Chorus] [Outro: Lupe Fiasco] Yo.. and to my hero Heron, Gil Scott, ya... In a discourse with Baldwin on a jet plane with no fear for fallin But wishin' it never lands Reminiscent of the dream time Presently en route to the rise of the machine time Magazine times, with coffee more sugar and milk than coffee Aborted rhymes, rotten beats, and failed hooks Roads as bumpy as braille books Fail cools, bad French, and mad push for the door Gourmet food at the starving soiree A choice of one easy woman at a time I'll take three the hard way Tryin to be as abstract as possible And vulgar, the more shocking the more profitable A baby fed molten gold and sat upon a pedestal at the mo' gettin called "24 carat soul" How to describe this? Insightful remarks such as the best thing I've ever heard was silence Some more technically impressive in a faux Spanish romantic hues of a Marxist dialectic Pleasing to the critics, but pointless to the common passerby Might as well not even exist, not even a bit In the event of my demise, give everything I prize to the poor And to the oppressors, I leave a war ...And so on and so forth