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lyrics

It's a celebration not a funeral. That was my attempt at grace, not a eulogy. This is what I made for last week’s show and tell. I know it’s pretty late but we’re still up. I hope you’ll humor me. This is how I function under pressure. I’m too restless guess I gotta lucid dream while I’m awake. Ay caramba. I’m a message in a keg without a sanke. My wings are scared of sinking, that's what helps me ride the wave. And that’s an easy pill to choke on. The universal motion for suffocation is a kink. Told my chauffeur, “Hold on!” then back seat drove that will to power off the Queensborough, off the brink. Ain't stop to think

Check the tides before you might begin to wander and
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.
You can doubt the sky but it’s annihilation’s stubborn.
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.
Laud the highest your environment’s redundant.
It’s not precise, but your guidance isn’t either.
Learn your climate before you sign away your comforts and
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.

They told me, “You’re gonna need to learn to hold your breath for longer than that if you’re planning on abandoning that loyal a craft, and the only way to practice is to walk the lagoon.” Still got the rocks in my boots and wander a turbulent path. And you can chase the whale but that’s a dragon in disguise. You can tell by the avarice in its eyes. Hey, a tale's a tale you either catch it or you die. Trying ain’t good enough in trial by fire. Like, “Put it out! put it out!” Nah let the motherfucker burn. “Put it out! Put it out!” Pretty soon we’ll just be bucketing the ruins. Fill em up. Dump it out. That’s a trash can. That’s an urn. Death’s a learning opportunity. Break the glass or burn.

Check the tides before you might begin to wander and
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.
You can doubt the sky but it’s annihilation’s stubborn.
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.
Laud the highest your environment’s redundant.
It’s not precise, but your guidance isn’t either.
Learn your climate before you sign away your comforts and
Count the time between the lightning and the thunder.

If they're getting shorter than it's soon to be above you.
Count your blessings. Start your begging. Run for cover.
The clouds are nigh; they've got your whereabouts and number.
We’re defined by how we pilot troubled waters.

It's a celebration not a funeral. That was an invitation, not an obituary.
I studied elevation in this concrete crucible to cruise above it's beautiful filth and find my sanctuary.
But skies are unforgiving. Weather systems, relentless.
A key without a lock on a kite string.
No conductor.
So I’ve resigned inside the pressure of this tempest.
Try to count the seconds between my lightning strikes and rumbles.

credits

from Pressure of the Tempest, released March 9, 2020

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WATKK is an independent hip-hop label curating unapologetically unique music.

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