The urbanization of transportation makes everyday like a trip through the airport/ my fare card is short and I’m at the gates of Court/ 1-800 DC do you have text support?/ It really much simpler than it
presents itself/ traveling from different boroughs back to the commonwealth of VA/ Where the streets is slow like the west parts of PA, This is an instant replay, I’m your instant DJ, where the streets is slow like the west parts of PA/ my rhythm is steady, I stay on the grind, I ain’t got no I-Pod so I write songs in my mind/ or I-sing, holding my melodies as company on this single track/ no big backpack, I keep it professionally brief/ In the streets. The heaviness of the city ain’t pretty some balling and some broke/ many cope, breathing in the pollution, seen a few spaced out and based out, it ain’t a joke ain’t it ain’t funny/ so many street dwellers asking me for money/ I am intern my only paper is resumes & business cards, at times I find in hard but I put my trust in God.In the streets, Everyone is trapped in their own silence or rockin’ to their own drum, I feel like the books Acts in the midst of diverse tongues. Spanish, German, Korean all tied to this land of freedom/ I be seeing, Slavic looking faces from East Euro & golden complexions from East Africa, whether it’s Eti or Eri, watching these men’s eyes in th district cause I know that some of them are fairies & I’m allergic to magic dust, AH aH Achew, does somebody have a tissue/ movement on the escalator becomes an issue, the mantra is 'stand on the right and walk on the left', but it’s all the same/ we are all huddled and hurried in this crazy game/ Thousands of interns and young professional, sophisticated individuals/ We brew coffee as an everyday ritual, for the daily grind/ this battle against time, For eating on the Metro I heard this little girl got fined/ So I’m Marching up the escalator/ It’s a constant climb, but I'm stubbornly thinking that I can beat time. Time. Time. Time.
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