Written by Topaz Jones, Jack Hallenbeck, Alissia Benveniste, Leven Kali. Performed by Topaz Jones
w/ Leven Kali. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Intro)
Money… yeah…
(Chorus)
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 1)
Told you I was gon’ beat your ass one day (one day)
Please hold me back, I’ma slap him in his face
He touched my girlfriend that’s disrespect (Flag on the play bro)
I swung, he ducked, then pushed me through the desk (now that’s a K.O.)
Why all this drama?
You know my momma
Been to my casa
When we were young
You were the golden
Child I should copy
Everyone said to be like ________
Problems with you
Look, I do not want
But I am a man
So I gotta flaunt
Or they gonna call me a punk
This morning I bought me a pump
I’m cycling through memories
Hindsight is 20/20 clean
Now you got me back pedaling
Psychiatrist not helping me
Your childhood not so heavenly
There’s hell to pay
My L to take
I make it through
I’ll celebrate
Why sell an Eighth?
There’s…
(Chorus)
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 2)
Woke up with a busy schedule
Give me revenue
I’m smokin on the sticky residue
You could smell it, wooh
Seventh period already, shit
I missed hella school
Teacher see that you don’t give a F
But she failing you
Drug game, Blood gang
Cracks that we fell into
That was not by accident
They packaged it to sell to you
Waiting on your Birthday
Practically got a cell for you
And paid for it all with your taxes
Yeah we march but the madness will throw off your bracket
All this baggage I might trip, if I ever unpack it
Seen a black man elected, ever witness one happy?
Exactly
The reason why I’m running this trap, like it’s a track meet
Movies showed me money and ass
That shit attract me
Used to show up hungry to class
That shit distract me
You should wanna be your own business
If you ask me
Instead of just another conveyor belt in the factory
Ooh you think you masculine because of rap?
I know you a pacifist, it’s just an act
And I don’t have time for you, or the Principal
I oughta beat your privileged ass off principle
There’s money to be made..
(Chorus)
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 3)
Money, Power, and Respect!
That’s the meaning of life
And if there’s more to it
Guess I’ll see when I die
I’m tryna be rich as hell
Fuck your degree and a job
Once you hit that cell
You might as well not even apply
Ain’t no bitch in me homie
You can see in my eyes
We got history, but dissing me could be your demise
Street smart, always beats encyclopedia wise
Three course meal for dinner, I might eat you alive...
(Outro)
Where’s the anger? Why are you so angry?
I realized that it was fear…
That’s what it was...
It was fear in my life
Not confidence, but fear…
To admit that you’ve got some issues
Because we don't wanna think of ourselves as having issues…
Musicians: Alissia Benveniste (Bass, Keys, Synthesizer, Drum Programming), Randy Runyon (Guitar), Topaz Jones (Vocals and add. Drum Programming), Rick Express (Background Vocals), Braxton Cook (Saxophone), Michael Summers (Saxophone), Travis Antoine (Trumpet), Valerie Hepburn (Add. Spoken Vocals), Engineered by Alissia Benveniste, Additional engineering by Joshua Pleeter & Jackie Boom
Written by Alissia Benveniste, Topaz Jones, Randy Runyon
Performed by Topaz Jones.
(Intro)
Money… yeah…
(Chorus)
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 1)
Told you I was gon’ beat your ass one day (one day)
Please hold me back, I’ma slap him in his face
He touched my girlfriend that’s disrespect (Flag on the play bro)
I swung, he ducked, then pushed me through the desk (now that’s a K.O.)
Why all this drama?
You know my momma
Been to my casa
When we were young
You were the golden
Child I should copy
Everyone said to be like ________
Problems with you
Look, I do not want
But I am a man
So I gotta flaunt
Or they gonna call me a punk
This morning I bought me a pump
I’m cycling through memories
Hindsight is 20/20 clean
Now you got me back pedaling
Psychiatrist not helping me
Your childhood not so heavenly
There’s hell to pay
My L to take
I make it through
I’ll celebrate
Why sell an Eighth?
There’s…
(Chorus)
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 2)
Woke up with a busy schedule
Give me revenue
I’m smokin on the sticky residue
You could smell it, wooh
Seventh period already, shit
I missed hella school
Teacher see that you don’t give a F
But she failing you
Drug game, Blood gang
Cracks that we fell into
That was not by accident
They packaged it to sell to you
Waiting on your Birthday
Practically got a cell for you
And paid for it all with your taxes
Yeah we march but the madness will throw off your bracket
All this baggage I might trip, if I ever unpack it
Seen a black man elected, ever witness one happy?
Exactly
The reason why I’m running this trap, like it’s a track meet
Movies showed me money and ass
That shit attract me
Used to show up hungry to class
That shit distract me
You should wanna be your own business
If you ask me
Instead of just another conveyor belt in the factory
Ooh you think you masculine because of rap?
I know you a pacifist, it’s just an act
And I don’t have time for you, or the Principal
I oughta beat your privileged ass off principle
There’s money to be made..
(Chorus)
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
Money to be made...
And I just want it right now
Please get down or lie down
When I’m in the grave...
I need everything iced out
Dying is a lifestyle
(Verse 3)
Money, Power, and Respect!
That’s the meaning of life
And if there’s more to it
Guess I’ll see when I die
I’m tryna be rich as hell
Fuck your degree and a job
Once you hit that cell
You might as well not even apply
Ain’t no bitch in me homie
You can see in my eyes
We got history, but dissing me could be your demise
Street smart, always beats encyclopedia wise
Three course meal for dinner, I might eat you alive...
(Outro)
Where’s the anger? Why are you so angry?
I realized that it was fear…
That’s what it was...
It was fear in my life
Not confidence, but fear…
To admit that you’ve got some issues
Because we don't wanna think of ourselves as having issues…
Musicians: Alissia Benveniste (Bass, Keys, Synthesizer, Drum Programming), Randy Runyon (Guitar), Topaz Jones (Vocals and add. Drum Programming), Rick Express (Background Vocals), Braxton Cook (Saxophone), Michael Summers (Saxophone), Travis Antoine (Trumpet), Valerie Hepburn (Add. Spoken Vocals), Engineered by Alissia Benveniste, Additional engineering by Joshua Pleeter & Jackie Boom
Written by Topaz Jones, Jack Hallenbeck, Alissia Benveniste, Scott James. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy
(Pre-Chorus)
Can’t we just get along this evening?
Ain’t no need for that fussin’ and carrying on, yeah
Can’t we all sing a song this evening?
Every time I call you don’t answer the phone…
(Chorus)
Just a little bit of family dysfunction
We all got it, we all got it...
Aye
Just a little bit of family dysfunction
We all got it, we all got it…
(Bridge)
Before you was in the picture
Had a figure like a Goddess
Got a soul like your daddy
Got a smile like your momma’s
Can’t keep a woman
If you can’t keep a promise
I used to act so shady
Baby least I’m being honest
(Verse)
All of my Aunties throwing shade like (Ooh)
All of my Uncles playing Spades like (Ahh)
Tears in my eyes when we play fight (Stop Playin’)
Quit all that actin out, keep the Charade tight (Tight, tight)
Holidays came, we played a game up at our place
How many whips can we fit up in this driveway?
How many ribs can I get on top of my plate?
How many gifts did you get this year? I’ll wait
‘Round the time my father stop living up where I stay
Every Friday, 45 minutes on the highway
Lisa get to trippin when the liquor in her system
All anyone would ever say was “drive safe”
I hate, y’all
But don’t judge it
Cause’ I’mma hold you down when others will hold grudges
And we don’t gotta explain to people that don’t love us
The blues is mo betta
The food is more butter
You know we just imitate what the parents show
The bad habits, the trust issues, the marriage woes
We inherit those
Until the day we have some kids of our very own
And we pass it all down like a herringbone…
(Pre-Chorus)
Can’t we just get along this evening?
Ain’t no need for that fussin’ and carrying on, yeah
Can’t we all sing a song this evening?
Every time I call you don’t answer the phone…
(Chorus)
Just a little bit of family dysfunction
We all got it, we all got it...
Aye
Just a little bit of family dysfunction
We all got it, we all got it…
Aye…
Musicians: Topaz Jones (Vocals, Guitar, Drum Programming), Alissia Benveniste (Bass, Add. Drum Programming), Jack Hallenbeck (Wurlitzer, Guitar), Jeffandy St. Hubert (Guitar), Scott James (Piano), Curt Jones (Guitar Solo), Stephanie Matthews (String arrangement), Kristine Kruta (Cello), Mylez Gittens (Violin), Ayna Ivanova (Violin), Will Marshall (Viola)
Written by Topaz Jones, Alissia Benveniste, Jack Hallenbeck, Jeffandy St. Hubert. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Chorus)
I really wanna be your lover
I can never make up my mind, I'm thinking ‘bout the other girls
I, really wanna be your lover
But I can never make up my mind, I’m thinking ‘bout the other girls
(Verse)
Ugh,
What else did you expect me to do?
Something special in them jeans, they be stretching the truth
She put a pep in the step of the Pepé Le Pew’s
And had the reverend sweatin, half the choir leapt from the pew
Ugh, if you bring her home to momma bet she’ll never approve
Plus she love to ask about the one who you been exclusive with
Cross her, that could be the nail in your crucifix
I hear the tick-tocking now, time to lock it down
Your homies sayin “Don’t commit, nigga shop around”
Birds flock around
We flirt a bit, but soon as I find time for us to kick it then I’m Charlie Brown (ugh)
And what’s the cause of it?
If it’s a fatal attraction, what’s the laws of it?
I really need the attention, give me all of it
I flick it up for the freaks, I bet they all love it (yeah)
(Chorus)
I really wanna be your lover
I can never make up my mind, I'm thinking ‘bout the other girls
I, really wanna be your lover
But I can never make up my mind, I’m thinking ‘bout the other girls
(Verse 2)
I used to say when I get older I’d have all the hoes
But my momma raised me right so I don’t call them hoes
I mean I call them, but it’s just on some platonic shit (my homegirl)
At least until the chronic lit, gin and tonic mix (yeah)
You ain’t the man unless you got a chick for every occasion
Milkshake from Mcdonalds thick or skinny and basic
And subtracting an ex never in the equation
No better than cavemen
Had me trippin’ tryna step with Temptations
But I could have two left feet and no rhythm
If she did give a sec to me, it’s no kiddin’
Could tell it in her eyes
Need umbrellas for her cries
She been telling little lies
The size of Nicole Kidman
And I have too,
Do whatever for that whoop, whoop, whoop
They boohooing while I boo who you?
Need something new
yeah, need something new…
(And the church said amen)
(Chorus)
I really wanna be your lover
I can never make up my mind, I'm thinking ‘bout the other girls
I, really wanna be your lover
But I can never make up my mind, I’m thinking ‘bout the other girls
I really wanna be your lover
I can never make up my mind, I'm thinking ‘bout the other girls
I, really wanna be your lover
But I can never make up my mind, I’m thinking about the other girls
(Verse 3)
Found a fast track for paper, she made of plastic
Now an hour-glass, her shape lookin’ elastic
Not an hour pass without the shouts and harassment
Got a lot of followers hollering for a pic, or at least an @ to acknowledge them (ugh)
Teach a college course on her collagen, got endorsements and sponsors
And they promising a bag at her doorstep for the promo
It’s like her big old Rihanna forehead is a logo
But so goes the saga,
If she can make more than her momma
While walking in them clunky Balenciagas
Who am I to judge it? (Ugh)
These rapper’s trickin till they outta budget
Just to get attention when they out in public
This what it come with
How you love it?
Or how you love anyone in particular when they coming in hundreds?
We was raised to be the hunters
And providers for our mothers if our fathers didn’t love us
Our sisters who get the brunt of it
Run through bitches just for the fun of it (ugh, yeah)
At one point you had enough of it?
Settle down, you know the husband bit (ah, yeah)
This the culture I was accustomed with
We tried adjusting but we couldn’t get the cuffs to fit
And she be quick to fistacuffs when we discussing it
Keep it a stack wit ya, brick by brick
We’ll build the trust again
(Outro)
Oh Janice, she said
You have a rich man’s family
She said “you got the boy first, and the girl second” (laughs)
They wanted that boy to carry on the family name
And then what was so amazing, then my son had a son
And my daughter had a daughter…
Musicians: Topaz Jones (Vocals & Synthesizer), Amber Baker (Drums), Alissia Beneviste (Bass & Synthesizer), Jeffandy St. Hubert (Guitar), Jack Hallenbeck (Add. Guitar), Curt Jones (Add. Guitar), Itamar Gov-Ari (organ), Emma Jones (Add. Spoken Vocals), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter & Jackie Boom
Written by Topaz Jones, Jack Hallenbeck, Alissia Benveniste. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Verse 1)
This grown man talkin’
Don’t go tellin your momma
Don’t go runnin’ up in the house like you scared of a monster
Stick your chin up
Go do some chin ups
You skinny, I hope she finna make spinach for dinner
Under your skin like a splinter
At night I dream about living
Above the rim like a spinner
But chances I make the league
Is getting slimmer than a,
Jim-or
Eminem-or-
Kendall Jenner
Rival of Pepsi spread all on her dresser
America, God Bless her
I’m like, “Sike nah F her” she ain’t ride for me ever (Ever, ever?)
My grandmother survived it three eras
Now from Prospect Terrace to the top, I Tricera’ed
Try me, I dare ya
SuperBad, Mike Cera It's the Mic terror, (ooh child) yeah
I swear to God these niggas terrycloth, that mean very soft
You look sad, try therapy
Or a glass of that liquid theraflu
But if I parachute, the kids will parakeet
As a teen figured all I needed was a pair of shoes, with a swoosh
Enough to make a nigga bust his teeth, ‘til they wiggle loose
But by the time I got em they was out of style
God got a sense of humor, learn how to smile
“Smile Baby”
(Verse 2)
Ugh, this grown man talkin’
Not for the faint of heart
This the ancient art of persuasion
The Makers Mark on occasion
I played the part I was training for since training wheels
Got no platinums, but I’m stainless steel
The layers peeled and the fruit of my labor revealed
Labelled and sealed, uh
Lot of rats chasing a deal, they would’ve squealed, uh
Top of that, they wanna ask you how it field
To leave the house behind
Nigga, is you out your mind???
All the Aunt Jemima spilling
All that nonchalance is chilling
Y’all your pops and momma’s children
I promise you I’m feeling like the cream of the crop doesn’t top me
It’s really getting sloppy Joe, somebody stop me
The bomb like saki bro, this Nagasaki flow
I’ll beat the horse if the jockeys don’t
I could kick it but that’s not the goal
I want control
For the folks counting crows ‘til the block gets sold
Man this shit is bananas, no it’s platanos
Was still a seed when the plot exposed, but I was told
To watch those who play blind with eyes closed
I could see it all now that I’m grown…
Musicians: Corbin Canvas (Drums), Alissia Beneviste (Bass & Synthesizer), Jack Hallenbeck (OP-1), Curt Jones (Guitar), Topaz Jones (Vocals), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter
Written by Eli Evnen, Topaz Jones, Anais Aida. Performed by Topaz Jones w/ anaiis. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Verse 1)
Let it be,
You’re treading deep
In memories of seventeen, complexion clean
Obsessed with the attention queen
Amphetamines take off the edge
You’ll have a splendid dream, yeah (yeah-uh)
But when you wake up from your slumber
You feel your insides bubbling up (ahh- uh)
They’ll take away your pain, your hunger
For a while but it wasn’t enough
(Chorus - anaiis)
Oooh…
Indecision when the sun falls
And your thoughts wander
Oooh...
Something’s different now you might fall
In the warm water
(Verse 2)
Let it go, (Let it go)
Your heart is gold
Your head is bone but heaven don’t,
Do metronomes
This precious stone we’re stepping on
Amphetamines I’m fed up,
Please leave me the hell alone (Hell alone)
But when you wake up from your slumber
You feel your insides bubbling up (ahh- uh)
They take away your pain, your hunger
For a while but it wasn’t enough (oohh ooh ooohh)
(Verse 3)
I’m addicted to the nostalgia, bittersweet
Missed a lot of calls, but I never miss a... (yeaahhh)
Moved to the city, now I’m slicker with the speech
But they all in a costume, tricking for a treat
The pain deep, like a cleat to the shin bone
Trippin’ on me, must be accident prone
Can’t dim my light, baby I been glowing
Why they treatin’ my skin tone like a syndrome?
I can’t wait to celebrate in the end zone
I been sharp as a razor since the flip phone
They was calling me crazy now the kid grown
And how many need favors? Ooh the list long
Time worth more than money
What you gon’ spend on?
I been so damn hungry that my ribs showing
I’m just sowing what I reap,
Gotta keep a receipt
Can you keep up?
(We’re living at the speed of…)
(Outro)
Light! Reflecting!
Everybody’s in the pool except you
(Chorus - anaiis)
Oooh…
Indecision when the sun falls
And your thoughts wander
Oooh...
Something’s different now you might fall
In the warm water
Musicians: Jeffandy St. Hubert (Guitar), Jesse Brotter (Bass), Tyler Newsome (Drums), Itamar Gov-Ari (Keys), Topaz Jones (Vocals & Synthesizer), Eli Evnen (Synthesizer & Keys), Anais (Vocals), Ada Obieshi (Add. Vocals), Engineered by Eli Evnen & Joshua Pleeter
Written by Jack Hallenbeck, Alissia Benveniste, Topaz Jones. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Verse 1)
All on them lips just like gloss
All of them pictures I lost
All of them fingers I crossed
All of them wishes I tossed in the well
I need a ride from my pops
I need to buy some eye drops
Peace of mind, piece of pie
Can’t even sleep I cyclops quite a lot
Blind folding origami
Order sushi, pouring sake out
Gorgeous view from the roof
More Confucius from your cottonmouth
Easter eggs turning rotten now
Throwing toilet paper
Porta-potty mouth
Made the morning paper
Can’t afford to save a single cent
Counting every second like they sang for Rent
Momma say I don’t know how to act
Over my shorty crib after school
Keys jingle, Kris Kringle out the back
Never understood how a fat nigga made it down the chimney
In the first place
My first taste of lust, came laced inside a Honey Dutch
We was watching Bubbles, Blossom, Buttercup
Can’t lose my mojo
Brain was too loco
I’m bangin’ with Weezy
The pain in his vocals remind me of Stevie
I’m steaming like Coco
It’s almost a quarter to three
Do you still got the quarter for cheap?
(Chorus)
Why blame it on my maker?
Won’t save me from my nature, yeah
Won’t shade me from this rainfall, wooh
A clean slate that’s all I’ve prayed for
(Verse 2)
East side boy got the streets hot
I could fry an egg on the block when Police out
Birds flock to me like a Peacock
Bass make her feel the trunk shake from the tree tops
Never got TLC from the radio heads but I see ‘em on the creep now
nd a whole lotta folk wanna reach out
Last we spoke, it been long as a beach towel-mm
Kitchen hot but I can’t chicken out
Fuck it I hatch me a plan
I’m smoking that sacreligious with the fam
We might go sacrificial for the lamb
I might go trade my master for a diamond chain
If I die in vain, pray it’s private plane
Know some living legends in a lot of pain
Tears tattooed, it's a crying shame (God damn)
(Chorus)
Why blame it on my maker?
Won’t save me from my nature, yeah
Won’t shade me from this rainfall, wooh
A clean slate that’s all I’ve prayed for
Musicians: Jack Hallenbeck (Synthesizer & Keys), Jeffandy St. Hubert (Guitar), Alissia Beneviste (Bass & Synthesizer), Scott James (Add. Drum Programming), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter & Jack Hallenbeck
Written by Angelo Mota, Topaz Jones. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Intro)
Everybody in my neighborhood respected and feared your grandfather
All the guys I came up with said “Don’t mess with Mr. Jones”
(Verse)
I got
Wanted posters up all over the block
How you ‘posed to pose for the photos when opps takin’ the shots?
Got em open with the bars, don’t end up over the rocks
You niggas sweet, probably belong in a cocktail with some Schnapps
School of Hard Knocks
All them lessons I won’t forget it
My energy so kinetic
My enemies so pathetic
They stealin’ my whole aesthetic
I’m keepin’ it copacetic
And that’s only the tip of the frozen lettuce
I remember getting rotten tomatoes in my direction
If you was salty then, by now you got hypertension
The streets was a muse when I debuted my collection
Receipts for the dues I been paying with my attention
Cut the tension with a paring knife
Hey didn’t your parent mention, ain’t nothing fair in life
‘Tis the season for me to turn up the Fahrenheit
They wearing ice, quit the cappin’
For Instagram likes with witty captions
How ill is He with the rapping? (uh)
Snip your ribbon ripping the package
Need respect like Aretha
I’m young, gifted, and blackin’
Even though ain’t no metal plating my dental
My mental on platinum plaquing
Brr, Brr
What happened to dat boy?
They want him dead or alive
He aim for your top five
With that thang off his belt
Faster than an asteroid
I got ghosts in my scope, like I’m Dan Aykroyd (Who the fuck you gonna call?)
I bet they down for trading places with me now
Globe trottin’, practice my bonjour and my ni-hao
Ever have a son, he gettin’ named after three thou
Da Art of Storytellin’ is to blame when I peace out (yeah)
(Chorus - Angelo Mota)
Dead or Alive (dead or alive)
Dead or Alive (dead or alive)
Dead of Alive (owww) …
Musicians: Topaz Jones (Vocals), Angelo Mota (Background Vocals), Curt Jones (Add. Spoken Vocals), Engineered by Topaz Jones
Written by Topaz Jones, Jesse Brotter, Max Allen, Phonte Coleman
Performed by Topaz Jones featuring Maxo and Phonte.
Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
Who...
Do...
You...
Think you are?
(Verse 1 - Maxo)
Seeing they schemes
Watch what I know deplete
Find meaning in things
Lost grasp of myself, held on for me
Knowing defeat ain’t foreign
It’s lessons in these scriptures
If you told me to read, listen
I benefitted
When I seen lines between game and wisdom
Same nigga, jottin’ down thoughts in my folks kitchen
Knowin’ we gone hit been
Shown that God’s gift really gracin’ the way I walk
So my word is I’m gon’ live
Seen the snakes sittin’ in the grass, on purpose
Posted with a smile on they face, on purpose
My eyes seen denial in they face
When the devil in the way
Spread your wings then fly…
(Verse 2 - Topaz)
In my will It should read “Just leave it there in the dirt”
What's a Mill to a Meek?
Watch me inherit the Earth
The Dream is a nightmare
We built America’s worth
I need a Bimmer in between the baby carriage and hearst
I wrestled demons and my doubts, watched them crawl right back
I made the Roc raise a brow, guess I’m Raw like that
They sent over a contract to own all my tracks
I twisted an L wit it
Then lit a fire, to hell wit it
Insult to my intelligence
Charts about my relevance
Talkin’ to my relatives
Know my problems is relative
Know once I’m in my element
It’s no more Mr. Eloquent
I’m addressing the elephants
Too much pride for the prejudice
I’m just flesh on a skeleton
That was blessed with some melanin
Who am I to be special and viewed as some kind of specimen?
Ladies and gentlemen, expats and residents
Crack pushers and presidents
Black beauty and excellence
Who...
Do...
You...
Think you are?
(Verse 3 - Phonte)
Yo,
I was hours deep within a dream
Playing some records with my lyrics on the inner sleeve
Until I got shouted out (wake up!)
Life in a crowded house
Just tryna find some living room in a den of thieves
But now I stand a made man with no tacky maneuvers
Come out the crib to get a bag then it’s back to the movement
I get caught up in the act of pursuing my own dreams
I don’t care about what the fuck these crackers is doin’
A child born into a permanent underclass
Full of misquotes and dish soaps for bubble baths
Black vigilance, Black businesses understaffed
And the odds never add up, ‘cause you have one the math
I’m living proof of making something outta something bad
So when my children grow, they ain’t gotta run as fast
Some friendly words from a debated underrated rapper
Tigallo, reminding you your favorite rapper’s fucking trash
(Bridge)
All that floodin’ the ice, turn off the faucet
All that smoke in the pipe, got you exhausted
All that salt in the wound, until it washes
All that callin’ the goons, don’t wanna forfeit
All that floodin’ the ice, turn off the faucet
All that smoke in the pipe, got you exhausted
All that salt in the wound, until it washes
All that callin’ the goons, don’t wanna forfeit
Who...
Do...
You...
Think you are?
(Outro)
Musicians: Topaz Jones (Vocals, Piano, Drum Programming), Jesse Brotter (Bass, Guitar), Maxo (Vocals), Phonte (Vocals), Sage White (Add. Spoken Vocals), Engineered by Topaz Jones
Written by Jack Hallenbeck, Topaz Jones, Scott James
Performed by Topaz Jones w/ Floyd Fuji
Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy
(Intro)
What’s good world it’s WTPZ Radio
Right now we got an exclusive for y’all
It’s your man Thelonious Martin
Checking in with some brand new Topaz Jones
For that ass…
(Chorus - Floyd Fuji)
You were hotter as a blonde
But I wouldn’t say I mind that your roots showin’
Couldn’t wait to be a momma
Bet all the neighborhood boys put the moves on ya’
Why you springing for designer?
A white tee with some jeans, it’s a look for ya’
Gold is leaking through the blinds
We ain’t sleeping through the night…
(Verse 1 - Topaz)
They say sex is a weapon, I think it’s a narcotic
Niggas starin’ at her titties, couldn’t stick to the topic
Outside the club with no plug, that’ll fit in the socket
Carry the clutch for the blush, lipstick in the pocket
Pay the phone, cable, rent, when she get the deposit
She tryna keep her waist thin as skeletons in her closet
She got her “round the way” fit and her runway fresh
They want that little black dress and Sunday’s best
If she do go on a date, it’s typically through an app and five
Minutes into dinner, realizing he doesn’t appetize her
Spacing out at the table, say I’m an astronaut
I told her all the places I’d take her if I had a rocket
Red glare, brake lights, I’m a playwright
We all putting on a show to hide the stage fright
Take a bow, they throwing flowers at your feet
Know you proud to tell them all about how I was counting sheep on you…
(Chorus - Floyd Fuji)
You were hotter as a blonde
But I wouldn’t say I mind that your roots showin’
Couldn’t wait to be a momma
Bet all the neighborhood boys put the moves on ya’
Why you springing for designer?
A white tee with some jeans, it’s a look for ya’
Gold is leaking through the blinds
We ain’t sleeping through the night…
(Verse 2 - Topaz)
They say sex is a weapon, you my executioner
In that dress, thought you could have stood next to Lucifer
Hot mess but I clean up nice, you gotta say
Take a life if that’s really the price I gotta pay
I’m not a player, I’m just crushing on you love
Might tell a lie if you ask is it true love
Two doves, one stone don’t always do it
Ask my dogs, yeah we all been through it
Why do I try so hard to hide myself? (myself)
And end up sitting here beside myself (myself)
With these
Long faces, like Earth, Wind, and Fire bassist
And cars race, but not at this heart’s pace
Stop playin’ wit me
The game over a Lil Flip of the switch
Could shed light on the most
The red wine for the toast
The Cuervo for the nightcap
That’s when we really got raw
Dropped the polite act, I like that
You follow your own trends
You rock with your old friends
When niggas shootin’ their shot
Then you promise to goaltend
And I could be more tender
Though I’m a low spender
Didn’t know it then
Now I could tell that you were meant for me
(Bridge)
Yeah you were meant for me
(Chorus - Topaz)
You were hotter as a blonde
But I wouldn’t say I mind that your roots showin’
Couldn’t wait to be a momma
Bet all the neighborhood boys put the moves on ya’
Why you springing for designer?
A white tee with some jeans, it’s a look for ya’
Gold is leaking through the blinds
Still ain’t sleeping through the night, no…
Musicians: Jack Hallenbeck (Synthesizer, Guitar, Add. Drum Programming, String arrangement), Topaz Jones (Vocals, Synth Bass, Drum Programming), Jesse Brotter (Live Bass), Scott James (String arrangement, Piano), Zach Ezzy (Trumpet), Floyd Fuji (Vocals), Thelonious Martin (Add. Spoken Vocals), Kristine Kruta (Cello), Mylez Gittens (Violin), Ayna Ivanova (Violin), Will Marshall (Viola), Engineered by Jack Hallenbeck
Written by Alissia Benveniste, Jeffandy St. Hubert, Jack Hallenbeck, Topaz Jones. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy
(Chorus)
I be spending like I’m rich
I be frontin’ like I’m broke sometimes (I ain’t got it, I ain’t got it)
Catch me stuntin’ on a bitch
Ooh baby, don’t blow my high
‘Cause I been going through withdrawals
(Verse)
Gotta check my deposit
I been gettin’ outta pocket
I've been eatin’ all this brunch
(aww, c’mon dawg what kind of weak shit is that? You drinkin’ mimosas with your pinky up)
I’ll be in the red by the end of the month
Comin’ out the blue with my stories
Boo-hoo’s and I’m sorry’s
I promise I’ll pay you right back when I get it though
I would never play you like that, what you trippin’ for? Ahh Ahh Ahh
You know I tried to sell trees ‘cause I wasn’t such a trapeze artist at all
Super stingy with the bag
Apologies if you bought it, I needed them sneakers bad
Bet all of my teacher’s mad I grew up to be a rapper (why they mad though?)
Used to think I knew it all, wouldn’t even read a chapter
The fame or the power, what you after?
Everybody want the plug, I’d rather be the adapter
Now that I got a few chips, blow the check on a new fit
Every dinner at Ruth’s Chris, Diamonds in every tooth -it’s funny
Get you some money, they all wanna give their two cents
‘Til it’s in the way of you making a contribution
How many niggas been duped and made a dufus? (a lot)
How many niggas in coupes that wont recoup shit?
(Ay watch out too these A&R’s taking bitches to Katana on y’all budgets talkin’ bout it’s a business meeting - you ain’t slick mothafucka)
Okay you got a little change, boy you came up
But your own neighborhood you afraid of
Couldn’t buy the caché with what you saved up
You still a slave, even if you got your chain tucked
But I won’t let a broke boy prevent my shine
Made a clout bank account, just to flex online
Heard niggas asking for change but I spent all mine
on’t know how I’ll pay the rent on time, ‘cause…
(Chorus)
I be spending like I’m rich
I be frontin’ like I’m broke sometimes (I ain’t got it, I ain’t got it)
Catch me stuntin’ on a bitch
Ooh baby, don’t blow my high
‘Cause I've been going through withdrawals...
(Outro)
Looks they can be so deceiving, ugh
False prophets we don’t believe in, no!
Cross my heart and hope to die…
Musicians: Amber Baker (Drums), Alissia Beneviste (Bass, Synthesizer, Harpsichord, Drum Programming), Jeffandy St. Hubert (Guitar, Topaz Jones (Vocals), Curt Jones (Vocals, Guitar Solo)), Jack Hallenbeck (String arrangement), Kristine Kruta (Cello), Mylez Gittens (Violin), Ayna Ivanova (Violin), Will Marshall (Viola), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter, Alissia Beneviste & Jackie Boom
Written by Jacob Rochester, Topaz Jones, Jack Hallenbeck, Scott James
Performed by Topaz Jones w/ Gabriel Garzon Montano
Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
(Intro)
Looks they can be so deceiving, ugh
False prophets we don’t believe in, no!
Cross my heart and hope to die
I know…
One day…
Everything’s gonna be alright…
(Verse 1)
I’m sick and tired of all this perspiring
Typing up resumes and inquiring
If you hiring
I’m sick and tired of button up ironing
Why don’t I get any days off, until I reach retirement?
I’m sick and tired of sirens in my environment
They never get laid off, they only do the firing
It’s getting violent
Could start a fire with, pain in my irises
Roses are red, why I’m so violet? (Blue)
Yeah baby, I’m blue (Blue)
My nigga, I’m blue (Blue)
Yeah baby, I’m blue (Blue)
(Verse 2)
I still don’t understand why I get up each morning and try again
The world already ending like the Mayan’s said
I still don’t understand why I’m in this predicament
Pitiful roaches in my hallway play tiny violins
I still don’t understand why is it that so many stay silent
When niggas dyin’ turn blind eye in their pirate ships
And still don't understand buying into the luxury brands
Providing funds for the Klan that be conspiring
Grew up admiring rhymers who had the hot one-liners
And beats bangin’ like it’s shotgun fired (Kaboom)
That left a young me inspired to light up blunts and get higher
Spend all my funds on attire and what I could consume
Was spoon fed with it, rhetoric quite repetitive
Family members wished reality registered with me cause soon
If I don’t blow like a bassoon
I’m a buffoon in the community
Lookin’ up at the moon it isn’t usually… Blue (Blue)
Yeah baby, that’s blue (Blue)
My nigga, that’s blue (Blue)
Yeah baby, that’s blue (Blue)...
Musicians: Topaz Jones (Vocals & String Arrangement), Gabriel Garzon Montano (Vocals), Jack Hallenbeck (String arrangement), Scott James (String arrangement), Kristine Kruta (Cello), Mylez Gittens (Violin), Ayna Ivanova (Violin), Will Marshall (Viola), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter
Written by Jack Hallenbeck, Alissia Benveniste, Malcolm Martin, Topaz Jones. Performed by Topaz Jones. Courtesy of New Funk Academy/Black Canopy.
Ugh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, Yeah
The other day I saw a spider on my wall
I watched it crawl to the ceiling
Thought to myself, being small looked appealing
No billing receipts, just chilling and sleeping
Resting on the windowsill, creeping (ah)
But see the problem is, policy and politics
Always play a role no matter where you go or how you live
Some play the cut, some climb, other’s reclining
Summer time, none of us outside when sun is shining
Come out at night you’ll see what we talking about
Niggas spitting that finesse with flies all in they mouth
Be quiet as a mouse the moment that we hear one step
If you not light on your feet, you might get crushed next
Lucky to make it to a day, the way the murder rate was
Them people come, we getting sprayed
They might exterminate us
Wonder if hate is in their heart, or is it taught?
Then a daddy long leg dropped game between a cough...
Ahem, Ahem
Listen, by spinning the web
You could ditch these conditions and be winning instead
Told me tall tales of niggas who fled
Never saw them again
Said they just busy or I ain’t visit him yet
Type of shit that had me, itchin’ my head
Conflicted in bed, rolled a spliff look like I twisted a dread (ugh)
Before I knew it, I was stitching a thread
Only God could predict where it lead, and so I…
Ease on down the Silk Road...
Strutting like a pimp, better give me what I’m owed
Welcome to the big city, hit the kitchen where all the milk flows
Niggas swimming in a bowl of Cheerio’s, I froze
Was bitten by a mosquito, don’t mean to be a pest
But this is only the beginning, come and see the rest
An hour later, had a corner by the fridge
Threw a flick up for the fleas, show the homies how I live
And now I kick it with the Beatles on the nightly
I wonder why it ain’t too many out here like me
They must lazy, either that or want a hand out
I got like eight, still ain’t even invite the fam out
Business is booming, there’s rumors I’ll expand out
Visions of moving like humans through this damn house
I’m hearing crickets, they hate, cause they can’t speak the language
Said “boy you buggin’, you’ll be lucky if they leave you hanging”
The next morning, heard pots and pans clattering
A gut curdling scream, the fine china-
A finger pointed at me, there were tears in her eyes
In that moment realized, what we fear we despise
They say the rise of a king always doubles the fall
Either pen or the sword, it’s just luck of the draw
And the cards that we dealt wasn’t shuffled at all
Man it’s a wild goose chase, got me ducking the law
I looked back to my hood before I could reconsider
Ended up under somebody big momma house slipper
A gust of wind, I shiver from the cold
Then I woke up to a tickle on my shoulder…
I must be buggin’, gotta be buggin’ buggin’ out
I must be buggin’, gotta be buggin’ buggin’ out
You buggin’ out yo, yo, yo
You buggin’ out yo, yo, yo
(Outro)
When we was at Motown, after rehearsal
Everybody went out to eat, Barry Gordy said “Everybody’s going bowling”
We sisters came from Monongahela Pennsylvania
There was one bowling alley- blacks were not allowed
Didn’t know what to do, we had never been inside of a bowling alley before
My mother always taught us-
“If you don’t know what to do, be a good listener”...
Musicians: Tyler Newsome (Drums), Alissia Beneviste (Bass), Stu Pender (Guitar), Jack Hallenbeck (Synthesizer, Add. Programming), Thelonious Martin (Drum Programming), Topaz Jones (Vocals, Add. Programming), Engineered by Joshua Pleeter