O’hene Savant - Ode 2 The Old lyrics

In the end, all you have is your
Legacy - your art, your children
And the lives you touch

This ain’t mumble rap, this ain’t humble rap
This is concrete jungle rap
This an emcee wondering how you come to that
Other than corporations keeping
My brothers back i’m an escaped slave
From industry plantations
No wonder I don’t fit in they playlist
Radio stations don’t play this ‘cause
I ain’t buck dancing
Or kissing the ass of some
Exec up in a mansion
Everybody bragging ‘bout their
Independent career glad you’re finally here
I’ve been independent for years
Back when you house nias used
To run to the label
And program directors got paid
Under the table they probably try to lie and
Say that’s nothing but fables
Of course you gon’ sing it now
‘cause no one's gonna pay you
And cooning ain’t cool no more
And so you change tunes
While I been here singing the same tune

Yeah, no matter what they say
I’m ahead of my time

A product of Kemet
You prolly can get it from
How I’m designing a sentence
And that was just a for all of the critics
Who think I’m not as gifted as
Those who make it intricate
Don’t get it twisted, kid
I’m just not a slave to the syllabic
I master space, and note rest
There’s a universe in between
Where the notes mesh
Some of you technical rappers lack
The gonads to go
Past the whole fast flow and do slow raps
Tryna be Pun so bad you even grow fat
And go back to using a notepad
That’s so sad now I can keep going on
With this whole path of
Rhyming words that’s as dope as my dope ass
But that would only impress
People with penises
A little alliteration for all the geniuses
A genius, second coming of a phoenix, kid
They fiend for this so I give
‘em just a teeny bit

No matter what they say, I’m ahead of my time

And yay though I walk through the valley
Of crack cocaine from Philadelphia to Cali
Then ghetto hookers hook up with
Tricks in the alley
Waiting for crooked cops to come and
Haul ‘em to the county
I swear there is a bounty for people
Of color that’s in the struggle
And spite of the opposition
We still get it to bubble
Whether or not I get your support
I’ma hustle
By the might of Ra or the ancestor’s muzzle
You can never muzzle the orator that stands
In the corridor where truth order door
And just as sure as I stand before the Lord
Everything I touch will be
Tough like corduroys
Word to Chuck Berry, don’t just observe
You must hear me in theory
I’m one of the sickest with the theory
It’s scary, it’s damn near nightmare-y
It’s night fury
Open your third ear, you might hear me