I got in a taxi from home with nothing of value
But a free mind a willing spirit and a hunger for what’s true
To this place called PMB to obtain a street Diploma and Varsity degree
Thinking psychology or an ill MC
Can’t decide what I wanna be
Think I’ll be both simultaneously
Ill council listeners in Hip sessions of poetic Hop psychology
An inquisitive dame on my left attempted conversation
Asked her what she thought about mental oppression
She looked at me as if I were an alien
My Surname is Khamanga but I’m Proudly South African
The taxi was dead slow I was dead right about telepath
The energy grid to those in the know
The driver playing slow jams on the incline
Turn it up let me dream deep affection in this shallow society we live in
Before I knew it there she was Ladysmith
Looking like the taxi I was travelling with
Got of got some apple juice got on a new one
PMB bound taxi man saying show me the money
New passenger’s hhhm Sanibonani
Here we go again uncomfortable seats and large baggage from home
Trees on the way remind me of Yeats poem
A lonely home in the middle of nowhere on the way
Awakening dreams of a solar powered country house some day
Its true only slaves dream, those with monetary invision
While cooking pancakes and waffles in their kitchens
Until then these rhymes ill be selling
Much love to those supporting
Asked the Jah- Man on my right why he thinks Gunja is illegal
If you respect Jah’s temple then surely all is well?
He say “Ganja bread kip me healthy”
I said “Gods word keeps my belief steady”
Travelling in a quantum leaping beyond the speed limit
Maskandi bass line bumping while I’m staring at the now solid line on the concrete
A dame with a pink top sitting on the left seat
My main man sipping Heineken listening to some house vibration
I’m thinking of a word to rhyme with the previous last one
A worship site near a burial ground
Wondering if they died while travelling on the road?
Feeling sleepy I dose of on my luggage
Woke up and we were in tall booth bondage
The amount accrued was paid and we continued our voyage
Thought of a girl named Sam, a single celibate bastard I am
Passed by an Audi an Opel a Merc and a Beemer
With designs inspired by an exo-planetary voyager
The Mondi rotatrim forest on either side of the road
As I contemplate a dead room to dump my mental load
Weary and restless get me of this taxi
Beyond the sharp turns tall buildings glad to be in PMB
I’ll be back Grandma I gotta hustle music on this mic for money
A city slinging gun slugger taxi driver
Took us home in a busted Toyota Corrola
I’m back and it’s cold the winters gotten colder.
