Halfway

Song: Halfway

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

Somewhere between the stage
and lobby coffee tables morning bagels,new newspapers,and dayquil, 
remotin’ the cable runnin’ your daydrill
becomes an effort, mission, and quest to keep stable
and for some it’s just a pressin desperate cry to stay still.
Can’t wait till the passin’ storms and title waves spill-
got the hard headed drownin’, denyin’ the pain still.
Remain Chill, my man was swallowin’ his eighth pill. 
To keep sane got his brown eyes melted to glazed hazel.


Brain blazin’, baked and jaded to vegetation
and awakenin’ abrupt hooked up to tubes and cables
from the nasal to the navel in a hospital bed.
Can’t see ya’ runnin’ in ya’ dreams or hear ya’ talk in ya’ head.
Ya’ rock wit it like autism and won’t come off wit it.
You could have a map and compass and still get lost in it,
Straight afraid to taste the cake cos’a how they frosted it, 
so I penetrate the surface to get the raw image


of a stressed out pot full’a water boilin’ hot
on the edge’a the oven ready to jump the stove top.
I’m sittin’ in the cupboard just another tea- cup
hangin’ by the handle while the kitchen heats up.
-
Chorus
Let it go
Feel Good
Get on wit it
And do like ya should
Let it go
Feel Good
Get on wit it
And do like ya should
-
Sometimes I get it right and avoid the bait and tackle,
save the damsel, shoot the super villains, hit the gas and straighten the handles,
dodgin’ bullets and shrapnel, pullin’ through chasin’ after
dangerous master minds full of loud complacent laughter.
Well, I ain’t laughin’, cos’ I don’t believe in heroes for that matter.
There’s just a few people who quit playin for evil to get back at’em.
The fact of it is, the craziest cats were quiet kids
who sat in the back’a class, starin’ out windows and writin’ shit. 


Got used to abuse and ass whoopins at the bus-stop,
bleedin’ on brand new shirts and stepping in ta class fucked up.
I’ve learned that satan has one smile and a few faces…
one of’em I’ve dated and the rest I keep away from
like an undercover agent not too distant or close.
Between your lines, breakin’ down and analyzin’ the prose.
Both ears open, teeth clinched, and one eye closed.
Aimin’ at the subtle with intent to expose.
-
Chorus
-
Conversation
About the rain
It gets a little bit’a redundant
Talkin’ bout the weather’s change, yeah
So what’s the price for ya’ sanity
If it’s in the nature of ya’ daily routine
To keep to yourself and no one else
Sayin’ what ya’ wanna’ say half way

American Machine

Song: American Machine

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

You can bet ot, where it starts and it stops

isn't dependent on whether you raise your fist up or not.

Cos' somewhere upon a desktop

you could find your measurements, profile, and headshot.

Gridlocked on blocks, no Idon't stress cops

even after 9/11 when my rights left dodge.

Next thing I know they're roamin' streets dressed up

with the James Dean shades, black hats and lip gloss,

pissed off, cos' most of the brothahs got tipped off-

dipped out the chi, to the m-p-l spot

claimin' that they got the rap game in a choke hold

while the system gots their dick up their ass, screamin' uncle.

Ya' run,kill, drink, smoke, and thug still.

They got their eye on ya' waitin' for blood spill

to get their cup filled, and fuel this machine.

Can't tell… you're bleedin' gasoline

-

Chorus

Pour the oil out, and I'll light ya' fire

Lay my soil down and walk stride for stride

Shoot rhyme for rhyme at any lie ya try

To sell a nightmare as a dream

Persuade the streets to gunfight for life

And get the people to build an appetite for pie

I'm gonna fight the fight, walk stride for stride

Against the American Machine

-

Sip champagne on ya’ public campaign,

preach and make claims on how you plan to make change.

Ya’ don’t accentuate what ya’ really wanna say

is that the only change’ll be made for ya’ pay.

Said there’s no in-between, only an either-or.

Want to make the gap wider between rich and poor.

Take caution, be careful what you wish for

cos’ the next day ya’ might have a riot at ya’ door.

Want to hush hush the voices with questions

about livin’ wages and income.

I know what’s goin’ on with ya’ unaccounted funds.

I’m not a fool my momma come from the union.

Put ya’ in the chair, now time to testify.

Ladies and gentlemen would the court please rise

and pay witness to all ya’ unveiled lies.

Oh the picture was so pretty now it don’t look nice.

-

Chorus

-

Make statements to stay protected.

Call it racist when it’s afro-centric.

Call it what ya’ want, but the police do mind

when a fist gets raised up yellin’ African pride.

If ya’ don’t stand for somethin’ then you’ll for anything,

manipulated easily into following.

That’s not my calling, but sometimes I watch for kicks,

sit and listen to your speeches just for entertainment,

but what’ll happen to song when the chorus won’t sing?

Your deejay quits, and there’s no beat dropping-

out of the sky like a bird with one wing.

It’s hard to stand for something when you’re always falling.

It’s hard to stand for something when you’re always on your knees

beggin’ for forgiveness from your god or deity.

Want to repent for all the things that you took from the hood.

Please raise your right and place your left hand upon the book.

-

Chorus

Guns And Guitars

Song: Guns & Guitars

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

High heel shoes wit’ a high class tone,

en vogue with six deep, never eva’ alone.

Always a full mailbox on her cellular phone,

catchin attention, eyes, ears, and bones.

Steppin in the front do’,  expectin’ a free cup-

naw excuse me queen, that’s gonna be five bucks.

Hip hop ain’t payin’ the bills in this apartment,

and we don’t play the pretty face coupon market.

So move on barkin’ wit ya blue blonde jargon,

break ya wallet take it to the keg and park it.

It’s the kinda party we’re ya spew off target

miss the bathroom sink and hit the livin’ room carpet,

shroomin’ so hard that ya chew on garbage,

confused and long gone from the booze and carbon.

Roughnecks got beef, but they’re too bombed to start shit,

and T’s in business like the Oolong market.

The only problem is the party’s at large

causin’ a loud ruckus congregation in my backyard.

I got word that the neighbors gonna call the cops

unless ya’ll get it together and choose one.

-

Chorus

The house- or the garage

Take it to the house- or the garage

Girl I know you got enough clout to shut the city down

But for now ya gotta bounce from my yard choose one

That’s the house- or the garage

Take it to the house- or the garage

Rippin’ and tearin’ through the track cos’ we live so fast

That I ain’t got time to die young

-

They slide me two shots and say choose your poison,

cos’ everybody’s gotta do dirt at some point, kid.

Choice or coin flip, fate’s double jointed

wit a busy schedule and no time for appointments.

So, I sneak in her office when she’s out on the weekend

and play my own fate however I see fit

wit a cup’a self-destruction bubblin’ in each fist,

complete with a mentality seekin’ to get ripped.

The science of applyin’ it ain’t really deep shit,

it’s as simple as logistics and breathin’-

simple as five chicks in the bathroom applyin’ make-up

and I’m tired of waitin’ so it’s time for public urination.

Fate can take a permanent vacation while were racin against death,

I gaffle the moon and sprint quick.

Kidnappin’ the tainted passion is all I plan to do

and charge kids to play a roll in the game like Faxanadu.

Do not attempt to bring my high down.

Disrespect, and we gotta break the guns and guitars out.

I’m reffin’ these rules like corrupted cops.

I can’t get caught, so make a decision and choose one.

-

Chorus

-

So deep in this

I could swim ‘til the ocean’s empty

Cos’ my soul’s addicted

And dancin’ to a broken medley

Slo Burn

Song: Slo Burn

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

Today, she doesn’t care to dress pale gray

and blush black.The weight made me exhale late,

so I stare in her face, and she cries cold raina

as the sun sinks deep into the big blue drink.

Her mood swings can move things, I’m not fooling.

I bet that your first guess is Julie

and it’s not, see I’m caught, vexed and spent

starin’ at the sidewalk with the Sunday stress.

Dumbfound with dumb thoughts of sex and death.

Wonder if I still exist in my ex’s head.

Even good close friends say The Blend is dead,

worthless, and I shouldn’t waste my breath.

Well go on kid, go and dance like all the rest,

don’t ask any questions,always be impressed,

invest in bright colors, embrace the night’s darkness starlit…

-

It’s a slo burn, livin’ this light like incandescent shine, slowly drippin’ in my eye

Sunset your work down, dress up and jump into this vile bright pool of everything and all that you want

Oh lord, we grab midnight by the throat

And swallow stars ‘til we’re comatosed and gone and lost and gone and lost and gone

Killin’ daylight, killin’ my daylight

Who killed my daylight, Stay awake love

Cos’ it’s a slo burn livin’ this light like California crimes, always runnin’ outta time

Ya’ got me bent, it’s short fused happiness bleedin’ shades of blue

-

It use to make sense like copper,

simple logic and orange clockwork-

sustained with what the day offered.

Now when I wake up I only recognize my boxers-

who’s this chick- who’s bed is this? I’ve long lost the posture

to stand out and get the hell off the

back saddle and prattle of the neon monster.

When night falls we drink shine and ride light bulbs

‘til we burn out or learn our life’s lost.

So, the sky cries cold rain while I wait on Ryan,

stare at the sidewalk and wonder where the time went.

I’ve given up my voice and sight just to find it

and only get a glimpse whenever I sit and write it.

I’m blinded, searchin’ for the sun in the dark

like poverty on a quest for change in Wicker Park.

Sparked, and can’t be stopped once it starts.

A sick wildfire seekin’ to kill the art.

-

It’s 5am while the city still sleeps.

The party’s passed out drugged up outta reach.

I watched you take your last hit and wait for sunset

to make sure that she still exists.

I smiled, closed my eyes, and held slumber up against my soul

to pay the late night toll,

and soon awoke to thunder from a storm she screamed

to see the life that your body let go.

So, when it hit 6am and the city still slept

like homeless wisdom on a bus stop bed,

I had to check ya’ pulse and feel a wind of regret-

caressed my cheek with ya’ last breath.

Now baby don’t you cry, and baby don’t you smile

cos’ happiness only happens when you walk that mile.

It can’t be posed in style or in a pipe compiled.

I wish I coulda wrote this before your last hour.

It’s passed now, gone along with those black clouds.

I guess ya can’t hold or slow down the fast route,

show someone the light when they’re cold and passed out

even though I tried and cried for this

-

Shine. Talk to me.

What’s your addiction? Remedy to your system?

Can you control the devil in your religion?

How high, must you get for you to feel ok?

Til it hurts good or numbs the pain?

Relaxified

Song: Relaxified

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

Leave the mess to rest and the beef on your plate.

Let’s all call it equal, nothin’ to compensate.

At the rate I’m goin’ I’ll just need a cup of fuel

cos’ I’m chill on travelin’ wit’ my back pack and a mule,

not a lot, just a few, not too much just a little

not in excess, just usin’ the minimum essentials.

Bein’ chill for me ain’t confidential:

straight faced behind my ear is a number two pencil.

Leanin’ on the wall, just slingin’ fastballs,

no priorities, just drinkin’ from Pandora’s Cup of tea.

Whassup wit’ me?Nothin’ B,

layin’ low at the coffee house wit’ the family and a few anonabeats.

It’s chill mode and there’s no code you need to get in,

So, cut all that fuss and sip on the mocha blend.

Beginnin’ to the e-n-d,

it ain’t nothin’ to my

Pre Chorus

And I’m wakin’ up to my off campus college castle;

flies on the ceilin’ and a wall full of spackle.

I don’t recognize my sink anymore it’s a black hole,

and somethin’ smells like last week’s cheese casserole.

-

Chorus

Ah yes, some zest

A little spice in this hip hop fest

So feel free to stretch

Ahhhh, and feel refreshed

Cos’ we have no need for your beef (Understand that the message I send)

Is of respect upon a beat (Agent Orange on intellectual blends)

-

She came at me with an attitude, so what was I supposed to do?

Smack her in the face and beat her down with my own two

bare hands??? Naw that ain’t the plan.

I took a step back and said, “Aight then”.

Because before I meet you, I already got respect

until you cross that line then your card is out the deck,

but ‘til then, don’t fret,don’t get twisted in a mess.

Some people pull out techs cos’ somebody hurt their rep.

I just pull out my text pen, kick it wit’ my friends

when I feel a little on edge and stress level 10.

So, what do you plan to dowhen someone gets mad at you-

bust shots back and forth through windows on the avenue?

Bullet holes in your brand new Chevy Malibu

just because ya’ let ya’ bad mood cop an attitude-

caught one to the chest, now ya’ layin’ on the ground through,

so they took the keys to your car and your new shoes.

Rushed to the hospital, got your chest lubed

so they can pump more volts into you than Pikachu.

Your life barely saved, now, dumb would be an overstatement

to describe the situation of ya’ life almost taken.

Most don’t really know the meaning of relax.

Intelligence becomes irrelevant to the fact.

Shake that load off and cut ya’ self some slack,

and when the beef approaches, take a step back.

-

Pre Chorus

And I’m wakin’ up to my off campus college castle;

flies on the ceilin’ and a wall full of spackle.

I don’t recognize my sink anymore it’s a black hole,

and somethin’ smells like last week’s cheese casserole.

I pass the mornin’ with a drop or dab of soap

and hit the closet for my clothes so I can get up and go.

A minute or so, is all it takes to get the day started

for the hardest workin’ emcee in his southside apartment.

-

Chorus

-

Pre Chorus

And I’m wakin’ up to my off campus college castle;

flies on the ceilin’ and a wall full of spackle.

I don’t recognize my sink anymore it’s a black hole,

and somethin’ smells like last week’s cheese casserole.

I pass the mornin’ with a drop or dab of soap

and hit the closet for my clothes so I can get up and go.

A minute or so, is all it takes to get the day started

for the hardest workin’ emcee in his southside apartment.

Not a gram of glamour or a dash of fashion,

rockin’ slippers and pajamas in and out of my classes.

Passin’ wit’ an “A” best believe hell yes sir

I ain’t even showin’ up to half the lectures.

My time’s expensive, and I’m not about to spend it

on a shirt from Abercrombie, just to make an impression,

so I’m dressed in whatever best fits and lasts

and I’ma ride my style bumpin’ up and down ya ave.

July

Song: July

Album: After What Came Before

Artist: The Blend

Written by Toussaint Morrison

Released April 23, 2005

ref: 

Prequel

Walkin’ away from a dark gray season

Gray like the bottom’s of clouds with a threat to storm

I can feel her leavin’

She could be gone, maybe I missed my chance

But I still wait for her like I wait for the end of class

Steady losin’ the feelin’

Cos’ it’s a long way from comfort to face fear

I took the wrong way to get there, now I’m here

Writin’ just one more page

And if ya’ happen to see her, could ya’ tell her what I’m about to say

July

Who gives a fuck what ya’ shoot if ya’ don’t got aim,

so this must pertain

to an individual named J

despite cliché rhymes of romance and bad dates.

We lacked faith, and only made it sadly halfway.

When shit went down, no one would take the damn blame.

We were together like night and day ‘til we broke like dawn

on her terms, cos’ she owns the sun.

The whole globe, in motion, knows she’s stronger

than it’s own gravitational laws,

so it revolves whenever she calls- when she wants

while I sound like I’m whinin’ hope is gone.

Just another emcee heart broke and done

over the girl he ain’t with anymore, that’s what I’m far from.

Some run and jump until their lungs don’t pump,

or shoot up and up until their brains go numb,

to get over someone that made’em feel low,

when it’s so simple gettin’ high with a lone microphone.

Love triangles get mangled in rectangles,

peeps get angered and start stranglin’

other lovers up in the tangle.

Relationships’ll make ya’ act insane and strange. Well,

J the game is nothin’ to play with.

You know better than me, I’m still learnin’ the basics.

I’ve been rejected from “hell no’s” to rainchecks,

girls got me shook and breakin’ ape shit like a bboy’s laces.

Tryin’ to get somewhere, but the goddamn breaks stick.

Tryin’ to see straight, but I’m too damn wasted,

head achin’, same ol’ same shit.

J, I wouldn’t write about ya’ if thinkin’ of ya was painless.

Pages upon pages, won’t change shit.

Ran outta time and a means of communication.

The sun’s chill waitin’ patient for you to call on Spring.

I told it not to hold up and just sing

-

Chorus

Julie, not far from July

When everyone gots damn good reason to smile

There’s no such good thing, in this sunshine

Without its fair share of rain

-

I’m not bold or close to one hundred percent

solidon all of it, far from positive

as to how this circus is workin’

with sex, drugs and ex-girlfriends,

weekend one-night stands,

drunken phone calls- 3am-

losin’ sleep restin’ my forehead in both my hands

tryin’ real hard to pretend you’re another face in the crowd

passin’ by at another house party, while I’m sittin’ on the couch.

Turned down a five dollar cup to get drunk,

I’m stuck focused eyein’ up all the

guys n’ dolls runnin’ and chasin’,

playin’ hard-to-get, frontin’ and fakin’,

makin’ the call or by their cell phone waitin’

stressed out tryin’ to leave or spark a conversation.

Watched a lot of kids try and take it like an equation,

but their head gets rocked like a fresh pair of brand new Asics.

Wish I could play this all off,

dissolved like a grain of salt,

talk smooth and lucid like a don’t give two shits

or two cents to grab a mic and speak to it.

The truth is: goin’ shady and ruthless,

walkin’ out unimpressed, cuttin’ friends to useless

ain’t nothing original or brand new shit.

So cut ya’ too-drunk-to-remember excuses.

Call me uptight, childish, narrow minded,

say I’m in love with the idea and my words got nothin’ behind’em.

I don’t mind it, but I’ll admit it’s gettin’ redundant

writin’ my affection for ya’ cos’ I don’t feel it when I recite it.

Words go so far and fall short to explain

holdin’ your hand in December feels like May,

your lips taste like solstice (change)

and no beauty queen could ever do that ‘til they live up to your name.

It’s been a month…

I got ya back it’s no thing. I sing

-

Chorus

Julie, not far from July

When everyone gots damn good reason to smile

There’s no such good thing, in this sunshine

Without its fair share of rain

These clouds in my eyes, killed off ya’ day blue

But complainin’s no use

When they said my heart had fooled me, but I knew it was right

When someone makes everyday feel like July