Included here are BYEM's lyrics
from the following STP hits:
Copyright 1995 STP Productions
9 years old, your dialect unbroken,
roamin, the paved streets of Logan
Heights--graffitied walls where no one should go--
Hangin out with friends, smokin some endo.
As the smoke fills the room, you don't care,
you breathe in the air, you breathe in the air,
and stare at the dealer on the street--
You imitate every move he makes on concrete.
You want to be the big man with the cash flow,
not like Bo, cuz what does Bo know?
So as you get older, I continue the drama--
You own your own street corner, start dealin ganja.
Adding to your rep, relaxed with pep,
take out those that slept, watchin every step
ya make, and the money ya make--
so much money you have to collect it with a rake.
At age 18, no need for college,
ya got gimps on the ave., keepin your shoes polished.
So when I see ya, I'll give you a pound, B;
but you're evidence of the Demise of Society.
Copyright 1995 STP Productions
just one verse from BYEM's hit,
STORY TO TELL
'It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder', Copyright 1995 STP Productions
When will God bring down the thunder
on this nation? It's a daily operation--
tryin to teach homosexuality in education.
How can you say that drug use is harmful,
then teach the youth how to live more carnal?
Come on! Am I the only one that can see?
Maybe ya need to see the opthamologist Daddy Lee;
and he'll tell ya just what I've spoken--
The nucleus of the family has been broken,
I'm not jokin, cuz I'm speakin the truth,
I'm speakin the truth, I'm speakin the truth.
They say that we're the lost generation--
Hmmm...Well guess who lost us?
I blame the parents and society as a whole,
livin for riches, then sell your soul.
The youth is cryin out, don't ya feel the tears?
Parents push through the pain, calm your fears.
You may hold a college degree from College #1;
but when was the last time you spoke to your son?
BYEM's verses from
The moral of the story is God has blessed-- Copyright 1995 STP Productions
I'M THE MAN
Last summer I took a trip to Central A.m...
to get a break from rockin the mic to the pm
The sun was beating down on my brown skin,
for miles no one knew I was the Direct Masta Byem.
Loungin on the sandy beaches of Costa Rica,
my eyes telescoped on this fly senorita--
I kicked it to her like a 90's conquistador,
she said 'Mas, mas, mas, more, more, more!'
I said, 'Yo, donde es tu hombre, senorita?'
She said she was single, and would like to meet me.
So she gave me an island tour before dinner,
treated me like a sweepstakes winner.
We ate conk and lobster by candlelight,
then took an ocean swim in the moonlight.
Real G's, can you dig the flavor?-----
at 1am she accepted the Savior!
I left a week later for a concert---
it brought tears to her eyes, they carried the hurt;
but yo, Ines, if you ever need me,
I'm in Dago writin your name in graffiti.
Ya travel the world and find a girl like Ines
But for every good girl, there's a fake
They want the money ya make, don't make the same mistake
Thinkin she loves you for you--
But don't get caught sayin the words, "I do"
to a Delilah, because she did tempt you
But in the 90's we say that she pimped you.
But to all the real girls stayin true--
Neko, Shekone, and Byem have much love for you!
I know you're fed up, want to give up;
but like Tupac said--"You gotta keep your head up!"
Look to the heavens and you'll get the picture
Worship God, and study the Scriptures
All in all, you know you reap what you sow--
Believe in your heart and know you're not a ho!
So peace to my little sis, Denise and Ines--
I can cope when I look in your eyes and still see hope
To all the girls livin the realness--
"Peace and Love", is how I end this...
If the elements were mine alone,
the sand imprints we left
I could wash your anxiety away
with Pacific Ocean foam.
Dress your ears with La Jolla,
the Coronado Bridge would dangle from your precious neck.
Downtown and East San Diego clothe you--
your thickness enveloped by Encanto,
and curves down to San Ysidro.
Slip on your feet
Palm Avenue and Imperial Beach.
as we slept
cling to your delicate vessel
like Queen Esther's gown.
Now how does that sound?
We listen to the sun drown
in the ocean every night...
(You've got me feeling allright!)
Copyright 1997 DPK
Tijuana's Children
Children will be children,
"Third World" or no world.
Even if dirt
make-ups their beautiful faces.
"Hola", I say
to three little girls.
They stare.
Afraid? Maybe.
Amused? Probably--
As they laugh,
running up and down the bullfight arena stairs.
Children will be children,
"Third World" or no world.
Copyright 1997 DPK
Consequences (98.6 Mausoleum)
When you mess with nature,
you have to face the consequences.
She drinks alcohol during each term
the vodka makes her throat burn.
No thoughts about the womb,
creating a mobile tomb.
A 98.6 Mausoleum
for this unborn human being.
Copyright 1997 DPK
187
She's cleaned your house
With the power of the ballot
Your people crossed the borders by ship,
since 10 years ago, she knocked on your front door.
You give her a little extra for Christmas,
"Feliz Navidad", other than that your Spanish is poor.
you're trigger happy, edgy to pull it.
Rights are taken like lives are taken
when a gun freely gives the gift of a bullet.
hers by the light of the moon crest.
Now, between cooking your meals,
she prays for her little hijo
with an aching fluid-filled cough in his chest--
alone with your grandson
in the bedroom.
A virus is not prejudiced
to the body it consumes.
God's grace allows her son to live,
your grandson rests in heaven.
You voted for 187.
Copyright 1997 DPK
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