Marlon Craft

Halal Lyrics

Oh my god

A lot of y'all just want some shit to critique

But your ass can't listen in the midst of a speech

As long as the cool table still got limited seats

And you try and argue your way in, you'll be sitting with sheep

Yeah, we so quick to just speak, addicted to peaks

But life lived in the middle is sweet

Chasin' highs, avoiding lows, never time to even learn

Usually ones gettin' louder don't even believe their words

I'm from New York, we was taught not to feed the birds

But ain't a hungry pigeon in sight these days

Politely, hey, the shit we giving hype be fake

I wonder lotta days, what good is progression if it's all built on lies?

Lost our ability to evaluate

Need to re-calibrate

I read your lil tweets, I think your passion fake

Everyone want eat but it's rare that they want have the stakes that I have embraced

Man, have a plate

Or keep acting like the shit don't matter

Actin' like we ain't the blueprint for the kids goin' after

Actin' like we ain't the ones who made it cool to not know and not try and not grow as long as you got hoes, right?

I feel responsibility to declare you're flopping

And I do my duty free like airport shopping

Won't take the culture name in vain, you a junkie arm

Dudes just want be liked, even if that means they want be wrong

Claim they cold, but that's fear, they present the same shivering, covering up, unrelenting games

Yeah, they want the fame, they don't wan't the pain

They wanna be Marlon, they don't wanna work at the other name

Mission to avoid the cubicle turned to a calling

I ball and I'm musical, Esperanza Spalding

Yeah, I'm the best out, debate your mother

She probably saw me on MSNBC and loved it

I'd rather have these dialogues within the culture

But this payola these days is undercover

I guess it ain't payola when the shit's the whole structure

Like the same thing on the table is somehow better than under

I shout shit they ain't got the balls to utter

Appalled, disgusted how I live

I don't know how you ain't

The money's there but the value ain't

I run circles round you dudes til I'm out of shape

So fuck you and your lil pouty face

No one ever cared about mine

I had to prove I wasn't pussy every day my whole life

If they look at me like a trust-fund baby one more time I might slap the shit out your face

Open-hand so you overstand you ain't worth the risk of a broken hand

Only spend time with my people really know the plan

You just fear this lion cause all you know is lamb

And that ain't halal, brother

That ain't halal, brother

You talking to the God