Yeah… uh… Flower child hippies livin’ by the Mississippi, Tie-dye spirit but the world still gritty, Bare feet steppin’ through a field so pretty, But the block stay watchin’ and the night stay iffy. Peace signs thrown but the chrome get picky, Dreamcatcher hangin’ while the fume thick city, I came from the bottom where the roads get sticky, Had to grow through the cracks where the hopes turn thrifty. Moonshine drip in a jar, no pity, Got a meadow on the left, on the right’s somethin’ risky, Meditation in the sun while the cold wind hit me, Tryna balance out the calm and the storms that flipped me. Hippie heart painted gold but the hustle still with me, You can smell the loud pack in the air like history, Wind chimes hummin’ like a lullaby mystery, While the bass from the trunk beat a whole new symphony. I’m a sage-burn sinner with a grind so steady, Got a peace-pipe moment then I load the machete, Cuz the world don’t care if your aura stay ready, They gon’ test your whole vibe when your light too heavy. Flower crown halo and the wild look pretty, But I learned real young that the dark stay petty, You can plant new seeds, let the rain get wetty, But the snakes in the grass make the soil too sweaty. See the riverbank shimmer at the hour I rise, Got a barefoot angel with kaleidoscope eyes, She be hummin’ little hymns ‘bout the pain she hides, But the peace-child smile got a whole disguise. Where the campfire sparks paint the dusk with highs, And the cedarwood smoke push the ghosts outside, We be layin’ on the earth, feelin' pulse and tides, Tryna breathe past the trauma that the past implies. Driftwood throne where we plot sunrise, Patch-worked blankets, raw soul unwise, But the hunger in my bones never compromise, So I mix free love with the enterprise. I’m a barefoot dream with the steel-toe mind, Got a pocket full of plans and a will to climb, If the peace don’t hold then the beast unwind, Cuz the pain in the mud made a different kind. Got rosemary twists on her wrist so dainty, But the world took swings tryna paint her faintly, Now she’s dancin’ in the fields like a rebel saintly, And the Mississippi breeze make the whole thing wavy. We be listenin’ to vinyl while the crickets go crazy, Talkin’ cosmos, karma, how the nights get rainy, And she look at me soft like, “The hurt don’t chain me,” I reply, “Where I’m from, fightin’ back ain’t maybe.” We got incense burnin’ by the old pine stump, Meditation hum mixed with boom-bap thump, Tarot card flip while the frogs go jump, Got the universe whisperin’ through every bump. See the night sky bend when the soul confronts, You can feel the whole truth hit the ribs like punch, And the meadow full of stars turn the fear to dust, So we root down deep when the world corrupts. Flower child hippies in the land I roam, By the Mississippi river where the seeds get sown, And the breeze feel holy like a hymn in foam, While the hustle in my blood still built like chrome. Free-love motion in the field I own, Tie-dye truth in the flesh and bone, But the streets taught lessons carved in stone: “Keep your peace… but protect your throne.”
