A flower that grow in the ghetto know more about survival than the one from fresh meadows.
Talib Kweli, “Love Language,” from Reflection Eternal’s Train of Thought, 2000
A flower that grow in the ghetto know more about survival than the one from fresh meadows.
Just because no one can understand how you speak,
Don’t necessarily mean that what you be sayin is deep.
These niggaz ain’t thugs, the real thugs is the government.
Don’t matter if you Independent, Democrat or Republican,
Niggaz politickin’ the street, get into beef,
Start blastin’…now a new cat is executive chief.
We speak the love language, they speak from pain and anguish.
Some don’t love theyselves, so they perception is tainted.