Microphone check, microphone check I'm a blue scholar worker studying the art of labor to create Flavor to relate to listeners, alleviate the danger associated with strangers Isn't it strange how we estrange ourselves from our neighbor? Enables us through music to connect, releasing fluids in our neck With the rhythmic forward movement of our heads and back again Indeed as we succeed the pioneers Maybe give back all that we've been taking through the years I bleed, for what I believe to be the truth, nurturing the seed planted in the fertile youth The poetry, hangin' from the branches be the fruit Pluck the most succulent, and suck upon the juice So what's up with you, frequently they ask Been hibernating writin' till the last page cypherin' the past days by Bypassing the lies and the bullshit Get up off the mic, and save it for the pulpit In the blue school, class is in session Ask us a question, cause class is in session (Repeat x4) I'm an exile, motherland stepchild, metropolis dwellin' middle America's prisoner of war Combat the paper till the blankness is gone Listen now, talk about the beat after the song Astronomical, cause that is just a modest measurement Of my ability to represent my family correct because I be about it, Ain't no other way to say it discovered my potential when I stayed late to tape it in the basement with an ancient karaoke stereo in lieu of a studio, we made do with everythin' layin around, and if I'm not mistaken isn't that improvisation what hip-hop is all about if you poppin at the lip then I will sock you in the mouth sonically to render you the opposite of loud apology accepted in advance, I think it's kinda cool at one point that you thought you had a chance In the blue school, class is in session Ask us a question, cause class is in session (Repeat x4) A veteran's fate written on pages of mixed tapes I'm all about a government that citizens dictate Sick of fuckin' dealin' with the president's mistakes To sit back and rant is just misplaced anger So I cradle, pens, from now until the fable ends Takin' friends for granted, but now I've got to make amends Callin out the big talk small walkin' cowards High above the ground yo we shakin down your towers And demandin our money back, plus reimbursement For parkin and shit, I put my heart in this shit And all my arteries connect to the amplifier wire, Music make the flames in my inner fire higher I reinvent the language in the image of a dancer Contorting where the floor becomes an answer Blue school graduate dog, after this last verse When the revolution comes we gonna shoot your ass first In the blue school, class is in session Ask us a question, cause class is in session (Repeat x4) ..Class is in session. Ask us a question, give a suggestion, yo... strap for protection. Whatever you do whatever you say, step up front. Be good at what you do. At least be good at something. Writing, reading, producing, DJing, umm, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, something. Learn an art, a trade, be somebody.