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letra de the missin' element - urban d

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verse 1
i expand, explore the depths of my inner man / (i like to reason) i need some proof like a dna strand / is there a master plan? is there a reason i’m on this planet called earth? / i can’t fathom all the pain, the poverty, the hurt / i’ma put in work and achieve all my dreams, join whatever team’s pulling illegal schemes and sell to fiends / (that was my mentality, soon my goals was reality but spiritually i was flatline like fatality) / i acquired all these material things i thought would bring joy but it was like a mirage or a counterfeit decoy (oh boy) / … my existence, i wanted to write but there’s resistance, between me and god there’s mad distance / (for instance) i wanna change but sin overtakes me like a 9.5 on the richter, my sins shake me / is life an illusion as i sit in confusion … tell myself, there’s gotta be more than this /

chorus
can have the riches of this world, from every continent / have knowledge and degrees, be mad intelligent / have popularity and fame and still not be content / our culture’s still searching for the missin’ element /

verse 2
our culture’s been around for about 2 decades / put on the mainstream market like waterfall cascades / rolaids i need for my stomach’s relief / in a sense hip-hop’s been stagnant but now it’s turning over a new leaf (history repeats) / … you reap is what you sow yo, just ask the prez / our music started out as forms of expressions, teaching true lessons, but it got polluted, it lost its blessings / the industry found that perversion and curse words sell / who cares about the effects, if we go platinum, all is well / art is sold out to the true beliefs and styles, blinded by the money, the promises and the fake smiles / (meanwhile) urban america continued down hill, our music glorifying violence and that it’s cool to k!ll / (time stood still) when we lost 2 of our own, spiritually most of us got roots, it’s time to come home /

verse 3
for the true heads i’ll get elemental in this verse, and dive in that old school like parachute pants that reverse / i won’t curse cause i got intelligence, and last i checked y’all, ignorance wasn’t one of our elements / let’s start with the break dancer, or should i say b-boy, as the crew assembles, the members prepare to deploy / strategically to the war on the vinyl floor, executing breathtaking moves that you ain’t seen before / next we got the dj, who keeps the crowd moving, precisely scratching and mixing his weapons on the 12 inches, he’s choosing (it’s soothing) / to hear the … rap heads equipped with a sketchbook like architects with floor plans (man) / can’t forget the emcee (our spokesman, our key) who rips the mic and reps us verbally / negatively or positively meant, you can do each of these to a hundred percent but you’ll still find there’s a void (a missin’ element) /
chorus 2
can have the riches of this world, from every continent / have knowledge and degrees, be mad intelligent / have popularity and fame and still not be content / lemme present jesus christ, the missing element /

outro
can have the dj’s and the b-boys from every continent / have rap artists and emcees with mad content / but our culture’s still searching, we ain’t content / lemme present jesus christ, the missing element

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