Who am I?
Are you sure you want to know
About this young black male from the city of snow?
From suburbia, not ghettos full of pimps and hos
But smiling faces, hard workers, little kids catchin’ colds
Where mommys were heroines and daddys were heroes
Who taught their sons like samurai to live by their code
The family was everything;
but now the glass ain’t even half full, it’s emptying
But I remember the teachings, “Put your mind to it, and you can do anything…”
So someone, please tell me, why are we settling
For mediocrity, when we’re descended from kings
From empires of rulers decorated with rings
Whose wives never ever had to worry about a thing?
Who am I?
I’m the kid to rock your reasoning
When people come to the cook the beef, I come with the seasoning
Hip hop is dead, but I still hear it breathing
Clear up all the pop smoke and you can listen clearly
Perception is reality, and they don’t wanna hear me
Hip hop’s ugly in the eye of the beholder
So now the dry raps have become the sculpters
The stories of violence and blood to be spilled
But no volunteers for war; they don’t want to be killed
Who am I?
Well, I go by many names
B-Kesso, Professor, the one who loves games
Thinker, Scholar, loves outsmarting the lames
B,B,A,Z, rhymes like flames
From Black America, a kid with a dream
Matter of fact, from America, the “land of the free”
And yet it feels like every day’s a type of prison to me
We’re slaves to the envy, the lust and avarice
Wrath, sloth and gluttony, and pride was still gathering
Who am I?
I’m the wielder of the in-between
Red, yellow, black, white, what’s the difference to me?
You can be purple, hell, what’s a color to me
Whether a rider or a friend, you’re a brother to me
If you’re just another generic, you’re a sucker to me
Another conformist hiding from the struggle, you see
We walk through the flames, bathe in the pain
And even when the rain stops, you know it’s coming again
But you gotta stay strong, work hard to live long
And later achieve the dreams of the song: Heal the World….
Who am I?
A utopian, maybe
The words that I speak and write vary daily
One thing that stays me, like history in AD
I’ll always be a Kesselly, a black man, and B-A-Z

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