Intro Lyrics

And there he was

A miracle baby

Born on the coldest day of December

In the middle of a spiritual warfare

Who brought joy and relief to all

Nasim

A breath of fresh air

A gentle and refreshing breeze

The curious child

Committed to academia

Curious of the craft

Perverted by the media

A victim of the times

The bright adolescent

Whose external light stripped the joy from inside

Merely a cover

Loyal and committed

But unforgivably flawed

Overtaken by guilt

Committing himself therefore to the art that makes him

An acceptance of self

The gentle nomad

Who knows no home

Only in self

The progenitor of this legacy

Committed to all things progressive and good

All things loving and true

A bucket for the tears of the weary

A cover for the cold heart

Khalil

A good friend

Those in search of will always find

I'm on my way home

Home meaning self

And no matter how high I fly

I will always be

Sheeda's Back Baby

This is the sound of the struggle

Like replacing that book bag for a duffle

Dropped out of school to make some moves

But never got into trouble

Them boys in blue is after you

No matter who you been hustling for

Touching that bubbling raw

Or tryna live your life humble and run with the Lord

If it's a war going on then we running with swords

But think lyrically, I'm killing beats when I record

Nigga, the fuck you thinking

Like when W. Fard Muhammad had left the physical plane

A disappearance most modern philosophers can't explain

A baby born in Oxford but was raised across the county line

Finally finds comfort in the home in which he proudly lies

Most would call it a divine visitation

Or benign imitation

Of the lines that we been basing our lives upon

A dead spirit in the world, revived in song

Deprived but strong

I survived the storm

For every time my mama sacrificed a meal so that I could eat

I let the anunnaki speak

The voice of God hidden deep within the texture

So no this ain't no ordinary lecture

Extraordinary pressure on my shoulders

Better than my opponents

what's fresher than my persona

Probably just my aroma

Yeah the kid is wicked

Stupid gifted, sickest penman that you know

Name a nigga that can flow iller

Cold killer

This is the sound of the struggle

Mama working to get her baby some food, left with his granny

She working like she the nanny

Making sure he with family

'Cause the only thing thicker than blood is real love

His pops was a real thug

But never with malicious intent

Just doing shit for his pockets to fill up

Couple years pass, mama send her baby to school

She make it to school

Trying her best to make it, it's cool

Just making her moves

Her man put his hands on her

Call her baby daddy, he pull up with the tool

Fire one up in the air and then he dipped off

Shots fired, police come around

No one dead so it's nothing to do

My daddy never came around, so I got something to prove

Yes I'm a man, you can tell it from the way that I move

Seen him lie up in that casket with

A whole lot of baggage, shit

Mama cried her eyes out, I told her dry your eyes now

We keep it pushing, doing what we gotta do

My ride or die, whatever mama do, I'm like, I follow you

She found another lover years later

I'm 14, another man before me

I feel hatred, still waited

Divorce papers 2 years later

Another couple years wasted but she still patient

Like she still a patient, facing more iller conditions

Heart racing, rushing to the ER, feeling suspicious

But she still a witness

Mama give me hugs and kisses, baby turned into a grown man

With his own plan

Tryna reach the homeland

Living in the modern world just tryna beat the program

And see my name in lights before my body cop a toe tag

Khalil Nasim, and BLK FEEL my team

I'ma fulfill my dreams

Make these bars reach farther than the mils y'all seek

Life and death is in the tongue so just kill y'all speech

You ever thought about the lives of the kids y'all reach

It's niggas all across the world going through it, needing therapeutic music

So I've come to conclusions

Ignore all of the fortune and fame

And give these folks something more for they brain

But keep it simple

It's a process to give a nigga something he can digest

I digress

Consistently focused on my progress

I guess it's a long road to the top

And once I get there I hope I never flop

Real shit

This for my family still stuck in the box

They call me Sheeda's Black Baby just in case you forgot

Nigga