[Intro — spoken, soft street ambience, no music yet] [Voice 1 — calm, steady] I'm stayin' blessed out here, long as BritPap at the mic. I'm always blessed out here, when he doin' what he like. I'm bein' blessed out here, no finger in the dike... Let it flow, BP, The word... yeah, the word; Let it flow all over me, like nothin' ever heard. [beat drops — warm, mid-tempo, dusty drums, soft guitar, no aggression] [Voice 2 — dry, close, conversational] You call me blessed, but you the one who taught me How to hold a word and not let it hold me You the steady voice, the quiet hand The one who says "sit down" when I don't understand I used to think the mic was mine alone Then you stepped in and made it a home So when you say "let it flow," I hear it twice — Once as a friend, once as advice [Voice 1 — calm, a little smile in the voice] You talkin' back now? Okay, I see you, BP I taught you the rhythm, but you taught me the key I used to keep the door shut, keep the dike dry You said, "PM, let the water run by" And I did. And it didn't drown me. It just cleaned the floor and showed me what's around me. So don't thank me — we trade what we know. You give me the beat, I give you the flow. [Voice 2 — warm, not defensive] Fair enough, old friend. We even. You the water, I'm the river that's freezin' No — that ain't right. Let me say it again: You the water, I'm the ground that it bends Different, but the same in the end — Both of us just tryin' to make a sound that extends Past the block, past the mic, past the night Past the ego, past the wrong, past the right [Voice 1 — soft, almost a whisper] Then let it be. No winner, no crown. Just two voices on the same holy ground. You blessed me, BP. I bless you back. No finger in the dike. No crack. [Outro — beat fades, street noise returns] [Voice 1] Let it flow. [Voice 2] Let it flow. [both, softly] Yeah... the word. ---
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