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Different

from Personal Journals by Sage Francis

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lyrics

"Nothing at last is sacred! Oh how the great have fallen! What have I done to myself? It's been way too long!"
We need to reacquaint. Things are different now, I ain't the same man I was Hi, how are you doing? I'm new and improved with even less to lose
A collector's edition version of a virgin-drink ordering cock tale teller
Gone way wrong. To the point of no return
Over the edge and burned out before I even got my shine Holding my head in pure doubt
Out of insight. Out of mindful things to shout or rhyme about

Yeah, I know I was supposed to change the world and all
Looks like the world got to me first
If you can't beat em, join 'em. Then hurt the team by beating yourself
I'm different...in a different way
The only thing that stays the same is change
While people claim their states, I state my claims
Sage Francis made a name for himself
For the record, my mother calls me Paul
Which was my father's middle name, but Ray
Stepped in and raised me
It's crazy, but this is a game I play called "Shut the Fuck Up"
Don't bother calling me at all because I'm not answering
Is that a voice-mail-bomb-threat or a broken promise I'm mishandling? Gambling away my money issues. Somebody owes me big bucks
My career depends on explosive vacuums sucking me in and blowing me up Poetry struck a nerve in the listenership
Spoken word then got 'em all interested
Now I don't have to serve ice cream to little kids
I get to serve emcees who think they're rippin' it
And poets who think they're somehow significant
Meanwhile both are loud and ignorant
And don't know how to speak to a crowd in an intimate environment
I am different...in a different way
The only thing that stays the same is change
While people claim their states, I state my claims
I'm a quiet natured player who outwardly hates the game
I shake what I got, which is a jingly pocket
Do my mini-market research and make noise for myself when I walk quick
I talk with authority while I question it
When I ask, "Who am I?" I'm left guessing
But if you're a poor man's version of anything it’s your self-perception
Growing up in a microscopic town prepared me well for this petri dish
Where talk is invisible to the naked eye and they hate the guy they're speaking with
I'm a real vegetarian: No chicken, not even fish
I'm a real underground rapper:
My tape quality sucks, my records are warped, and my CD skips
Lady Luck is a greedy bitch with itchy palms and a case of the gimmes
But I've got an outie if she's got an innie, I'll clean her pipes and then sweep her chimney The beat that's within me is polyrhythmic. You're only 60 heartbeats per minute
A human second-hand-me-down-to-earth-guy who will thriftshop-lift his hip-hop
I may be getting too big for my britches but I paid my dues when the cost was climbing And if I burn too many bridges I'll never get off of this awful island
As long as I've been rhyming, they only started listening
Because for a while they didn't like how I wouldn't smoke the pot that I was pissin' in Plus I had no dead homies to pour out the liquor for. I don't drink.
You can flash your shiny objects in front of my eyes and I won't blink
I'm motherfucking different
Oooohhhh yeeeaaahhhh
I'm motherfucking different
Oooohhhh yeeeaaahhhh

credits

from Personal Journals, released April 16, 2002
Beat by Sixtoo

license

all rights reserved

tags

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