Self Exam - CYNE

I was born at the end of the disco era when

The b-boy was the life of the party

Then in Benin Republic, West Africa

I started out ‘til eight years old—then we bought it out

Looking for a job abroad, daddy found one

He was intellectual and mamma was too

A match made in heaven or the curse of voodoo?

Well, we got situated in the Sunshine State

‘Cause I was adapting to change and tryna assimilate

Thoughts ran through my head.

Kids couldn’t relate (Why?)

‘Cause I got on my fingers and my dinner was late

Yo, I had no toys, was forced to be creative

I wrote scripts with sticks, pretending they were people

Made a movie called War.

Went and made a sequel

My parents were traditional—they loved discipline

My sisters were good, but I was bad at listening

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Is it my childhood unraveling?

Nah, it’s my adolescence babbling

I guess I better let him in

Hello drugs, family, God, depression, and music

Coming of age in the mid-90s.

That was me

Poetic juvenile into hip hop—an emcee

Perfecting my craft of when days were darker than

Black, leather jacket.

I sat and weathered the wrath

With some paper and a pen, my thoughts my medicine like

«I'mma be, so fuck Excedrin»

Yo, mom and dad arguing.

That shit is old

A battle of words—the nerds may win

Guess that love was lost and war found a home ‘cause

Mom had the couch and dad slept alone

Not naïve to the fact—I was well aware

That the bond that was love was no longer there

That shit ran with the wind and turned to sand and

They got divorced and I was caught between

A tug of war.

The legal system at the door like

«Did your daddy beat you and who do you love more?

So, knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Is it my adolescence unraveling?

Nah, it’s my manhood babbling

I guess I better let him in

Hello past, present, future, life, and understanding

Accepting manhood is a challenge I’m willing to face

Take your time.

Said, «Mom, I’m willing to pace

Myself ‘cause I gotta be twice the man that my father was «I gotta make it whether slaying crack from 9-to-5

Releasing stress over beats just to stay alive

It’s all a hustle—nowadays, I just maintain

And let the good times roll, then embrace change

I’m kind of glad that I made it up thus far

See, knowledge of self is bigger than a rock star

Now, understand the wisdom here

And let Speck drop the beat—shit is crystal-clear

We let ‘em know that

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

With those, my thoughts unraveling—yeah, that was Akin babbling

I guess y’all better let him in

Hello world, family, music, life, and understanding