Sun Worship
[Verse 1: K.W.A.M.E.]
Seen Caribbean
Queen from out Medina, proud to the Heights of her Crown
Bad and bougie with crown, I’ll wipe her down, getting faded
Baton Rouge tunes move through the playlist
We have skin blackened for this occasion/a Cajun sunbathing
Class and decadence, class by herself, established
Veteran, the patch on her bag matches the letterman
Black and excellent, past master’s intelligence
Bae do her brows with a blade—that Nick Van Excellent
Good Laker, never act Superior
Erie how she speak without me hearing her.  Body language
Body banging, knocking down walls, it’s probably
Vacant.  Restructure your lobby, let K.W.A.M.E. paint it
Your mommy made it—speaking of your mother though
One the bros hit me like, “Ms. Queen, she was one to know”
Running O’s, gaming in the street, they called her “Rucker Pro”
Love the cold, Westside Gunna straight out of Buffalo
I wanna know: you fleeing or gon’ breathe and stop?
Speak to Dot, whether we agree or if we beef a lot
Heat the spot, treat it like the tea in pot
And keep it hot, even eat the box when leaving equinox
(Where we at, kid?) And pretty soon, we gonna lose the blooms
Beautiful, skinny-dipping nude inside a Uber pool
You think it’s deep enough to scuba too?
Dot and ManKind, Sol-Trane, that chooga-choo
Moving through
[Verse 2: SciryL]
Be sure of me, be sure to be
Pure to me, be sure when I’m uncertain
Jah cure disease, flawless victory
Cure you with the D, sun worship, lungs hurting
Lead bursting, gun smoke, one toke
To the chest, a feeling unspoken.  Huh
I’m unwoken when the funds lower
Told my son, “Roll up,” then it’s back to the beats ‘cause nun
Know us like a catholic priest, and I ain’t rapping
For free, get down, lay down, back to the streets
Sit down, play ‘round, pass in your sleep.  Tom Brady dreams
Pompeii the scene Bombay to Queens, popping
Mot in Major League.  I got the mind state
Of Andre, Nas, Drake, Kanye, and me, huh
Sol-Trane elite, propane and weed
Gas and the fire, back for the match
And I’m strapped with a lighter, torch for the fortress
Sauce for the pork ribs on top crosses
For the coffins, swim with the fishes, nigga, or with
The dolphins and war with the swordfish.  Walk like
You talk and be sure of me, the love of sadness
The allure of grief, mourning who you were sure you’d be
Losing sleep, comb through it, use the teeth
Go chew it—you should eat, nigga
Go through it—you’s a beast.  Be sure of you
And be sure of me
[Verse 3: !LLumiN@TE]
I’ll be/Al B
Sure!  How I feel about you night and day
Teddy Riley on keys, you know I like to play
But I’m the guy for you, and if we never have
A Prince, I’ll Still “Die 4 U” like I only have
Eyes for you.  Blind devotion, inner visions
The music of my mind is very superstitious
Every Song’s In the Key of Life, new edition
Talking books, ManKind is a new religion
So all praises due.  All aboard, Lordy Lord
Who paid for you?  I was saved by grace
Too blessed for me to say I ain’t
Too talented to say I can’t.  Can’t stop
Won’t stop, ain’t no stopping us now
Now or later, still rocking a crown.  Crown Fried
Chicken Little, a little bit of love for the instrumental
Somebody pay the plug for the incidentals
We all meant to die—until then, let’s
Exemplify—Semper Fi—can I get an
“Oorah”?  “Barbara Ann,” “Doo Wah Diddy Diddy”
Dum dum, you are litty.  It’s Sunny D
Sun worship, have a cup of tea—you need
A couple if you had a cup of me.  ManKind