Song: Cup With A Handle
Album: Run With It
Artist: G8
Written by Toussaint Morrison
Released October 26, 2006
When the dark blends with the night it makes the streets look gray
That humid wind blows and the trees start to sway
A fresh page as I breathe in that city sage
Second-hand smoke with a fresh air haze
Some sit 'n' write, some sit 'n' blaze
Cigarette smoke that tints the air glazed
I stir my drink that takes shades of brown beige
Filled with that liquid for my night phase
The remedy calmed from heat and intensity
While I'm just kickin' it with Pad & Penelope
On the balcony of the coffeehouse
Sometimes to find my way or to find my way out
And in and out an emotional weave
Always adjustin' my prescription so I can perceive
And understand then hopefully we can relate
Conversation over tea and a muffin on your plate
-
Chorus
Do ya stay late awake into the nighttime
Sit back and just write lines
About things and what ya' feel like
Or just chill and think about life
Lay back upon a grassy hillside
A coffeehouse servin' at late night
Or out a window in the night sky
Losin' yourself below the moon and light
-
No- no- no, we don't sleep much down at Pandora's Cup
On the 2nd floor porch of this coffeehouse hut
Lookin' out from the balcony where I can see it all
Just an uptown village up against the wall
Scratchin' at the bricks, searchin' for ways to deconstruct the structure
Workin' off'a poverty and hunger
Meanwhile I hit the tip jar, grab my fill
Find a table and it's back into the midnight drill
Starin' at a page'a paper waitin' for a thought to spill
I got bars and a dramatic pause to kill
A true emcee can handle silence in the evenin'
And not jump at the chance to grab a mic when she sees it
Keeps even between speakin' and closely listenin' to another's speech
So that their flow is above and beneath it
I jump from the weekend's altitude
And dive into the sweet deep-end of the afternoon
Chorus
Wipe the stars from your eyes and the clouds from your canvas
Walkin' under the sky more manic than Hamlet
Instinct tells ya not to settle for average
And ya still stress unsettled after ya have it
Combatant of the battle and war against itself
Sweatin' from the neck of your shirt down to your belt
I worry not of what not applies to me
As I flip off the cops and coffee break from society
My rival is my indecisiveness between coffeeshops and party houses
Desks and stained couches
My outfit: the anti-uniform shoutin'
While many stay conformed and backgrounded
I stay black-grounded to the roots up and down the busy avenues
Midnight to the afternoon, longitude to latitude
Sittin' with a notebook with only words to be
And if I have to do convey the frame and shape of what's my able state to
Chorus
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