Guante & Big Cats - Other lyrics

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Guante & Big Cats - Other lyrics

[Verse 1: Guante] To everyone who ever had to check other as an option Knowin' that we never fit in boxes Ancestor moshpit, family trees stretched over the oceans Our bloodlines' poetry in motion, yo For the multifaceted For multicolored hoodies up over multiracial kids' cabbages For the multitalented, multigenre Spittin' multi-syllable rap monsters To multicultural families who have at least The capacity for rattling curses off in three tongues Count up all the cousins and the in-laws It's like the global market up in here, speak up I want sushi on St. Patrick's Day And a Viking funeral when I pa** away I want sukiyaki played from a mariachi trumpet Tucked in the mouth of a dragon I want my kids, to write a new language We are mixed, we are nothing, we are everything, we are a nation Just don't call us exotic It's just the opposite to be honest [Hook: Guante & Chastity Brown] Yo, don't box me in don't call me out If you make me choose, I'm a choose myself Beautifully imperfect It can be confusing as hell, but it's worth it Yo, don't box me in don't call me out If you make me choose, I'm a choose myself And next time they ask “what are you?” Say “I'm like nobody else” [Verse 2: See More Perspective] Our blood is a tapestry, moving DNA strands Freestyle together like the lines in our hands Created as we grow, going forward like our lifelines Thoughts from a global perspective, so am I like mines? Greatness from a place of difference Then try to say we all the same, but really they just dissin' us American beauty is American me And it isn't in commercials that they sell on TV History's a DJ, Bambaataa style Impulsively drop records and crowds go wild My blood is a special blend of history and pain Struggle and progress, how you put that in a name? I can answer that, but you gotta listen close It whispers on the winds from every sea and every coast In hip hop and art and thought it's protected The name I'm referring to is See More Perspective [Hook] [Verse 3: Chantz Erolin] I wrote this verse on the back of a boarding pa** home First cla** elites and them lower cla** drones Extra pat downs, yeah, I know how that goes The consequence of being brown in an airport I wasn't born mixed or a half-breed Til I didn't know what I'm is when y'all would ask me I've been called chink, called spic, y'all hara**ed me When my dad's in crack stacks, my mom's in the backstreets In a space between where the kid is Among the white, not quite, couldn't tell who to sit with What you think I can tell you about difference? When one question pulls me apart in an instance Someone said ''we got a word for you'' Well, that's cool cause checking others to observe the truth I'm the son of an immigrant related to a president The distance that I represent, an alien in residence [Hook]

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