Applause - Square One

It’s been theatres, dusty barns and auditoriums

Poetry slams, older gods smokin' opium

Testaments since destiny took the best of them

Zig zag among thoughts hooked to instruments

Tryn' to pay visions to perfection

Soundwaves of slaves and criminal perceptions

To bad the accessories on tablets of memory

With mind states that lasted in treasuries

A magnet to felonies

We chop butter, ski masks, fatigues and box-cutters

Glas stutter throughout gutters ‘n' hallways

Woman cry ‘cause their kids 're stargazed

I won’t blame ‘em, since I’m doin' the same thing

Goin' through the same pain with thrusts to maintain

Many close calls labeled a myth, a ghostdog

Don’t know better so I stick to old odds, like a movie

With mad signals and uzis

Desperados who tote pistols with beauty

The hustle, rascals get their caked doubled

Sellin' me a amount of pounds the jades smuggled

With helicopters, jet-ski and space shuttles

Now they been recruitin' engaged couples

Camouflaged to play walls then chase trouble

Those who disagree will get their face scruffled

Clap your hands (clap your hands now)

Clap your hands, the hands you clap

Clap your hands (clap your hands)

Clap your hands everybody!

Picture the attica blues, cinematical moods

My literature’s beyond mathematical jewels

They say Ali spits the most radical views

But I cock back the mack ‘n' happen to snooze

Pacin' crews put on their travellin shoes

They chose the right path of what many refuse

Actors and fools’re goin' get dramatically bruised

Plus their whole entourage get slapped on the news

Brinin' the ruckus I stomp on their miniature puppets

Watch Iman put on their finishin' touches

While ya lost on the course pursue image of others

I represent the seeds ‘n' underprivileged mothers, sisters & brothers

Frames visibly scarred, you go ahead

With your bad sufferin' mystery god

Vicious bars, read this, murders i wrote for burglars to quote

I’m verbally dope ask anyone they will confirm

I’m mad deep on anything between a ballad or fast beat

Take your tongue out of those A&R ass-cheeks

Or you end up like your white caps tapes on trash-heaps

Clap your hands (clap your hands now)

Clap your hands, the hands you clap

Clap your hands (clap your hands)

Clap your hands everybody!

Mastered the technique to speak over tracks we freakin'

Still catchin' more flak than blacks and Puerto Ricans

It sorta deepens, my heartbeat weakens

We not reachin' these kids.

They ignore the preachin'

For more reasons, absorb the teachings

And leave your mind open to change like four seasons

The beats bang like whores out skeezin'

State of teh Art III is more than crowd pleasin'.

WORD!

And now we got you fiendin' for more

After the show began niggas ran like Gore

Sizzerhand for sure, spins ‘til his fingers is raw

He loves it when you bring us applause

So clap your hands ya’ll, get with the program

The mellow vibes reminiscent of a slow jam

It’s worldwide felt even by my old man

The magnetic attraction that you got open

Clap your hands (clap your hands now)

Clap your hands, the hands you clap

Clap your hands (clap your hands)

Clap your hands everybody!