Out the Library @ 6,
I'm frozen stiff from sitting there like a square
In a cute lil library chair for 6 hours,
Breathing only every now and then just to keep my pulse blipping,
To the beat of the keys I be hitting like Whiz Kid 9000
Typing my way through time and space
And trying to find my way out this crazy place that is bleeding -
Of boredom so exhaustively pronounced I swear my spine somehow done got
Whiplash from how many times I tilted my head back,
'Why Lord, O why O why O why
Does a place of Books & Novels & Dewey Decimals
Have to be like such a drag?
In any case,
The library was behind me for the moment,
For I was full of energy and running through the windy cold,
Heading to the Locker Room
To get myself suited up and dressed for the the night shift.
In my building,
I throw my Executive Keycard in the Executive Keyslot
Of the Executive Elevator
That slowly takes me up to Top Floor #6,
When I decide the run wasn't quite long enough...
On my way up,
I pull my iPod out of my backpack
Put the buds in my ears,
Wait for the door to open up,
And wait for it...
Kanye/Janet- My Baby
(In case you want to read and listen; (Click third song down; (Yes we're very Interactive;)))
I go by the name of
Khan-the-Louis Vuitton Dawn
I'm with my Home Girl
(Oh Baby, My Baby)
Who need to hook me up with some her Home Girls
(No matter what they say Baby)
(They just don't know my Baby)
(And how I feel about you...)
We back baby.
(Cuz you're so...)
And like a Han Solo out the mold,
My warmed up frame grooves along contours of pliable vigor
Across a dance floor that looks mine for the taking...
By the heel-rock-to-toe-tock -
By the spine-ripple-on-da-rhythm-roll -
By the hip sway that make my waist say:
'Woah hey ya now been much too long since we let go like so.'
Baby loved to dance.
Started with Rebel Music by Bob Marley.
Advanced to All Eyez On Me by 2pac.
Still bump Bob and Pac,
But I love Kanye West, too,
And whether you thinking he a Punk or Pixie,
The Dude Rep 1 when it comes to turning out jamz that Hot.
Baby... (Baby...) These butterflies, they never lie...
And sexy singing of Janet Jackson to top it off?
Make me wanna move like brother Michael.
Been through so much pain before...
Truth is, I wanted to move like Chris Brown
And how he did to the tune of 'Beautiful People' for the millions of viewers
Who must have also been watching him and wondering -
'How in the name of motion do this cat come up with that savvy coordination?'
Passing the Locker Units,
Making way through the dance hall that was entirely mine, as usual,
I was trying to demonstrate the answer to that very question.
I was working on some new mechanics for style -
I was exercising the closest thing to bodily phenomena I could manage.
I was thinking of Talib Kweli saying -
'If you can talk, you can sing; if you can walk, you can dance...'
When I turned the corner and started singing along with Janet -
No matter what they say Baby...
“No matter what they say Baby...
You'll always be my Baby...
You'll always be my Baby...
It's how I feel about you...
“It's how I feel about you—”
That is, I imagined a Record Scratch -
I had just turned the corner when I see down the hall
My neighbor is looking across the way to me -
A big question mark on his face.
“Sup baby,” I asked.
Sometimes, this neighbor of mine said: 'Sup baby,' to me. Figured it was my turn.
“Hey howya doin',” he said.
He seemed down.
I wasn't too happy about how my fox-trot was so abruptly slowed...
And knowing I let the sight of his presence alone turn the dial of my flow
From Chris Brown down to Charlie,
I decided to let him know the Positive Energy must go on...
“Just letting you know I got the headphones in.”
Cuz when it came to neighbors,
Sometimes you engaged,
And sometimes you waved and just pressed play -
I go by the name Kanye Omari,
And I wrote this just to say I'm sorry -
I got foreign cars and houses -
I got porno stars and spouses -
“Did you hear I got robbed?”
He didn't yell, but said it well over the music.
I turned the iPod off.
Sometimes a neighbor wants to talk.
Sometimes a neighbor listen...