Kanye West - Dark Fantasy

I fantasized 'bout this back in Chicago Mercy, mercy me, that Murcielago That's me, the first year that I blow How you say broke in Spanish? Me no hablo Me drown sorrow in that Diablo Me found bravery in my bravado DJ's need to listen to the models "You ain't got no f***in' Yeezy in your Serato?" (You ain't got no Yeezy, n***a?) Stupid, but what the hell do I know? I'm just a Chi-town n***a with a Nas flow And my chick in that new Phoebe Philo So much head, I woke up in Sleepy Hollow

Kanye West - Power Verse 1

I’m living in that 21st Century, doing something mean to it Do it better than anybody you ever seen do it Screams from the haters, got a nice ring to it I guess every superhero need his theme music No one man should have all that power The clock’s ticking, I just count the hours Stop tripping, I’m tripping off the power (21st-Century schizoid man) The system broken, the school is closed, the prison's open We ain’t got nothing to lose, mother****er we rolling Huh? Mother****er we rolling With some light-skinned girls and some Kelly Rowlands In this white man world, we the ones chosen So goodnight, cruel world, I’ll see you in the morning Huh? I’ll see you in the morning This is way too much, I need a moment

Kanye West - Lost in the World Verse 1

You're my devil, you're my angel You're my heaven, you're my hell You're my now, you're my forever You're my freedom, you're my jail You're my lies, you're my truth You're my war, you're my truce You're my questions, you're my proof You're my stress and you're my masseuse Mamasaymamasamamakusa Lost in this plastic life Let's break out of this fake ass party Turn this in to a classic night If we die in each others arms we still get laid in our afterlife If we die in each others arms we still get laid, yeah

Robert Browning - A Cavalier Song

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing: And, pressing a troop unable to stoop And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, Marched them along, fifty score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. God for King Charles! Pym and such carles To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles! Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup, Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup Till you're- (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell. Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well! England, good cheer! Rupert is near! Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here (Chorus) Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song? Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles! Hold by the right, you double your might; So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight, (Chorus) March we along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

Robert Browning - A Serenade at the Villa

I. That was I, you heard last night, When there rose no moon at all, Nor, to pierce the strained and tight Tent of heaven, a planet small: Life was dead and so was light. II. Not a twinkle from the fly, Not a glimmer from the worm; When the crickets stopped their cry, When the owls forbore a term, You heard music; that was I. III. Earth turned in her sleep with pain, Sultrily suspired for proof: In at heaven and out again, Lightning!---where it broke the roof, Bloodlike, some few drops of rain. IV. What they could my words expressed, O my love, my all, my one! Singing helped the verses best, And when singing's best was done, To my lute I left the rest. V. So wore night; the East was gray, White the broad-faced hemlock-flowers: There would be another day; Ere its first of heavy hours Found me, I had passed away. VI. What became of all the hopes, Words and song and lute as well? Say, this struck you---``When life gropes ``Feebly for the path where fell ``Light last on the evening slopes, VII. ``One friend in that path shall be, ``To secure my step from wrong; ``One to count night day for me, ``Patient through the watches long, ``Serving most with none to see.'' VIII. Never say---as something bodes--- ``So, the worst has yet a worse! ``When life halts 'neath double loads, ``Better the taskmaster's curse ``Than such music on the roads! IX. ``When no moon succeeds the sun, ``Nor can pierce the midnight's tent ``Any star, the smallest one, ``While some drops, where lightning rent, ``Show the final storm begun--- X. ``When the fire-fly hides its spot, ``When the garden-voices fail ``In the darkness thick and hot,--- ``Shall another voice avail, ``That shape be where these are not? XI. ``Has some plague a longer lease, ``Proffering its help uncouth? ``Can't one even die in peace? ``As one shuts one's eyes on youth, ``Is that face the last one sees?'' XII. Oh how dark your villa was, Windows fast and obdurate! How the garden grudged me grass Where I stood---the iron gate Ground its teeth to let me pass!

Robert Browning - A Tale

What a pretty tale you told me Once upon a time --Said you found it somewhere (scold me!) Was it prose or was it rhyme, Greek or Latin? Greek, you said, While your shoulder propped my head. Anyhow there's no forgetting This much if no more, That a poet (pray, no petting!) Yes, a bard, sir, famed of yore, Went where suchlike used to go, Singing for a prize, you know. Well, he had to sing, nor merely Sing but play the lyre; Playing was important clearly Quite as singing: I desire, Sir, you keep the fact in mind For a purpose that's behind. There stood he, while deep attention Held the judges round, --Judges able, I should mention, To detect the slightest sound Sung or played amiss: such ears Had old judges, it appears! None the less he sang out boldly, Played in time and tune, Till the judges, weighing coldly Each note's worth, seemed, late or soon, Sure to smile 'In vain one tries Picking faults out: take the prize!' When, a mischief! Were they seven Strings the lyre possessed? Oh, and afterwards eleven, Thank you! Well, sir,--who had guessed Such ill luck in store?--it happed One of those same seven strings snapped. All was lost, then! No! a cricket (What 'cicada'? Pooh!) --Some mad thing that left its thicket For mere love of music--flew With its little heart on fire, Lighted on the crippled lyre. So that when (Ah joy!) our singer For his truant string Feels with disconcerted finger, What does cricket else but fling Fiery heart forth, sound the note Wanted by the throbbing throat? Ay and, ever to the ending, Cricket chirps at need, Executes the hand's intending, Promptly, perfectly,--indeed Saves the singer from defeat With her chirrup low and sweet. Till, at ending, all the judges Cry with one assent 'Take the prize--a prize who grudges Such a voice and instrument? Why, we took your lyre for harp, So it shrilled us forth F sharp!' Did the conqueror spurn the creature Once its service done? That's no such uncommon feature In the case when Music's son Finds his Lotte's power too spent For aiding soul development. No! This other, on returning Homeward, prize in hand, Satisfied his bosom's yearning: (Sir, I hope you understand!) --Said 'Some record there must be Of this cricket's help to me!' So, he made himself a statue: Marble stood, life size; On the lyre, he pointed at you, Perched his partner in the prize; Never more apart you found Her, he throned, from him, she crowned. That's the tale: its application? Somebody I know Hopes one day for reputation Thro' his poetry that's--Oh, All so learned and so wise And deserving of a prize! If he gains one, will some ticket When his statue's built, Tell the gazer ''Twas a cricket Helped my crippled lyre, whose lilt Sweet and low, when strength usurped Softness' place i' the scale, she chirped? 'For as victory was nighest, While I sang and played,-- With my lyre at lowest, highest, Right alike,--one string that made 'Love' sound soft was snapt in twain Never to be heard again,-- 'Had not a kind cricket fluttered, Perched upon the place Vacant left, and duly uttered 'Love, Love, Love,' whene'er the bass Asked the treble to atone For its somewhat sombre drone.' But you don't know music! Wherefore Keep on casting pearls To a--poet? All I care for Is--to tell him that a girl's 'Love' comes aptly in when gruff Grows his singing, (There, enough!)

Kanye West - Gorgeous Verse 1

Penitentiary chances, the devil dances And eventually answers to the call of Autumn All of them fallin’ for the love of ballin’ Got caught with 30 rocks, the cop look like Alec Baldwin Inter century anthems based off inner city tantrums Based off the way we was branded Face it, Jerome get more time than Brandon And at the airport they check all through my bag And tell me that it’s random But we stay winning, this week has been a bad massage I need a happy ending and a new beginning And a new fitted, and some job opportunities that's lucrative This the real world, homie, school finished They done stole your dreams, you dunno who did it I treat the cash the way the government treats AIDS I won’t be satisfied til all my n***as get it, get it

Robert Browning - A Woman's Last Word

I. Let's contend no more, Love, Strive nor weep: All be as before, Love, ---Only sleep! II. What so wild as words are? I and thou In debate, as birds are, Hawk on bough! III. See the creature stalking While we speak! Hush and hide the talking, Cheek on cheek! IV. What so false as truth is, False to thee? Where the serpent's tooth is Shun the tree--- V. Where the apple reddens Never pry--- Lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I. VI. Be a god and hold me With a charm! Be a man and fold me With thine arm! VII. Teach me, only teach, Love As I ought I will speak thy speech, Love, Think thy thought--- VIII. Meet, if thou require it, Both demands, Laying flesh and spirit In thy hands. IX. That shall be to-morrow Not to-night: I must bury sorrow Out of sight: X ---Must a little weep, Love, (Foolish me!) And so fall asleep, Love, Loved by thee.

Robert Browning - A Lover's Quarrel

I. Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last night's rain, And the South dries the hawthorn-spray. Only, my Love's away! I'd as lief that the blue were grey, II. Runnels, which rillets swell, Must be dancing down the dell, With a foaming head On the beryl bed Paven smooth as a hermit's cell; Each with a tale to tell, Could my Love but attend as well. III. Dearest, three months ago! When we lived blocked-up with snow,--- When the wind would edge In and in his wedge, In, as far as the point could go--- Not to our ingle, though, Where we loved each the other so! IV. Laughs with so little cause! We devised games out of straws. We would try and trace One another's face In the ash, as an artist draws; Free on each other's flaws, How we chattered like two church daws! V. What's in the `Times''?---a scold At the Emperor deep and cold; He has taken a bride To his gruesome side, That's as fair as himself is bold: There they sit ermine-stoled, And she powders her hair with gold. VI. Fancy the Pampas' sheen! Miles and miles of gold and green Where the sunflowers blow In a solid glow, And---to break now and then the screen--- Black neck and eyeballs keen, Up a wild horse leaps between! VII. Try, will our table turn? Lay your hands there light, and yearn Till the yearning slips Thro' the finger-tips In a fire which a few discern, And a very few feel burn, And the rest, they may live and learn! VIII. Then we would up and pace, For a change, about the place, Each with arm o'er neck: 'Tis our quarter-deck, We are seamen in woeful case. Help in the ocean-space! Or, if no help, we'll embrace. IX. See, how she looks now, dressed In a sledging-cap and vest! 'Tis a huge fur cloak--- Like a reindeer's yoke Falls the lappet along the breast: Sleeves for her arms to rest, Or to hang, as my Love likes best. X. Teach me to flirt a fan As the Spanish ladies can, Or I tint your lip With a burnt stick's tip And you turn into such a man! Just the two spots that span Half the bill of the young male swan. XI. Dearest, three months ago When the mesmerizer Snow With his hand's first sweep Put the earth to sleep: 'Twas a time when the heart could show All---how was earth to know, 'Neath the mute hand's to-and-fro? XII. Dearest, three months ago When we loved each other so, Lived and loved the same Till an evening came When a shaft from the devil's bow Pierced to our ingle-glow, And the friends were friend and foe! XIII. Not from the heart beneath--- 'Twas a bubble born of breath, Neither sneer nor vaunt, Nor reproach nor taunt. See a word, how it severeth! Oh, power of life and death In the tongue, as the Preacher saith! XIV. Woman, and will you cast For a word, quite off at last Me, your own, your You,--- Since, as truth is true, I was You all the happy past--- Me do you leave aghast With the memories We amassed? XV. Love, if you knew the light That your soul casts in my sight, How I look to you For the pure and true And the beauteous and the right,--- Bear with a moment's spite When a mere mote threats the white! XVI. What of a hasty word? Is the fleshly heart not stirred By a worm's pin-prick Where its roots are quick? See the eye, by a fly's foot blurred--- Ear, when a straw is heard Scratch the brain's coat of curd! XVII. Foul be the world or fair More or less, how can I care? 'Tis the world the same For my praise or blame, And endurance is easy there. Wrong in the one thing rare--- Oh, it is hard to bear! XVIII. Here's the spring back or close, When the almond-blossom blows: We shall have the word In a minor third There is none but the cuckoo knows: Heaps of the guelder-rose! I must bear with it, I suppose. XIX. Could but November come, Were the noisy birds struck dumb At the warning slash Of his driver's-lash--- I would laugh like the valiant Thumb Facing the castle glum And the giant's fee-faw-fum! XX. Then, were the world well stripped Of the gear wherein equipped We can stand apart, Heart dispense with heart In the sun, with the flowers unnipped,--- Oh, the world's hangings ripped, We were both in a bare-walled crypt! XXI. Each in the crypt would cry ``But one freezes here! and why? ``When a heart, as chill, ``At my own would thrill ``Back to life, and its fires out-fly? ``Heart, shall we live or die? ``The rest. . . . settle by-and-by!'' XXII. So, she'd efface the score, And forgive me as before. It is twelve o'clock: I shall hear her knock In the worst of a storm's uproar, I shall pull her through the door, I shall have her for evermore!

Robert Browning - A Face

If one could have that little head of hers Painted upon a background of pure gold, Such as the Tuscan's early art prefers! No shade encroaching on the matchless mould Of those two lips, which should be opening soft In the pure profile; not as when she laughs, For that spoils all: but rather as if aloft Yon hyacinth, she loves so, leaned its staff's Burden of honey-colored buds to kiss And capture 'twixt the lips apart for this. Then her little neck, three fingers might surround, How it should waver on the pale gold ground Up to the fruit-shaped, perfect chin it lifts! I know, Correggio loves to mass, in rifts Of heaven, his angel faces, orb on orb Breaking its outline, burning shades absorb: But these are only massed there, I should think, Waiting to see some wonder momently Grow out, stand full, fade slow against the sky (That's the pale ground you'd see this sweet face by), All heaven, meanwhile, condensed into one eye Which fears to lose the wonder, should it wink.

Kanye West - Heartless Verse 3

How could you be so Dr. Evil? You bringing out a side of me that I don't know I decided we weren't gonna speak so Why we up 3 A.M. on the phone? Why would she be so mad at me for? Homie I don't know she's hot and cold I won't stop wont mess my groove up Cause I already know how this thing go You run and tell your friends that you're leaving me They say that they don't see what you see in me You wait a couple months then you gonna see You'll never find nobody better than me.

Robert Browning - A Light Woman

I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?--- My friend, or the mistress of my friend With her wanton eyes, or me? II. My friend was already too good to lose, And seemed in the way of improvement yet, When she crossed his path with her hunting-noose And over him drew her net. III. When I saw him tangled in her toils, A shame, said I, if she adds just him To her nine-and-ninety other spoils, The hundredth for a whim! IV. And before my friend be wholly hers, How easy to prove to him, I said, An eagle's the game her pride prefers, Though she snaps at a wren instead! V. So, I gave her eyes my own eyes to take, My hand sought hers as in earnest need, And round she turned for my noble sake, And gave me herself indeed. VI. The eagle am I, with my fame in the world, The wren is he, with his maiden face. ---You look away and your lip is curled? Patience, a moment's space! VII. For see, my friend goes shaling and white; He eyes me as the basilisk: I have turned, it appears, his day to night, Eclipsing his sun's disk. VIII. And I did it, he thinks, as a very thief: ``Though I love her---that, he comprehends--- ``One should master one's passions, (love, in chief) ``And be loyal to one's friends!'' IX. And she,---she lies in my hand as tame As a pear late basking over a wall; Just a touch to try and off it came; 'Tis mine,---can I let it fall? X. With no mind to eat it, that's the worst! Were it thrown in the road, would the case assist? 'Twas quenching a dozen blue-flies' thirst When I gave its stalk a twist. XI. And I,---what I seem to my friend, you see: What I soon shall seem to his love, you guess: What I seem to myself, do you ask of me? No hero, I confess. XII. 'Tis an awkward thing to play with souls, And matter enough to save one's own: Yet think of my friend, and the burning coals He played with for bits of stone! XIII. One likes to show the truth for the truth; That the woman was light is very true: But suppose she says,---Never mind that youth! What wrong have I done to you? XIV. Well, any how, here the story stays, So far at least as I understand; And, Robert Browning, you writer of plays, Here's a subject made to your hand!

Kanye west - Jesus Walks Verse

(Jesus Walks) God show me the way because the Devil trying to break me down (Jesus Walks with me) The only thing that that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now (Jesus Walks) And I don't think there is nothing I can do now to right my wrongs (Jesus Walks with me) I want to talk to God but I'm afraid because we ain't spoke in so long To the hustlers, killers, murderers, drug dealers even the strippers (Jesus walks with them) To the victims of Welfare for we living in hell here hell yeah (Jesus walks with them) Now hear ye hear ye want to see Thee more clearly I know he hear me when my feet get weary Cause we're the almost nearly extinct We rappers are role models we rap we don't think I ain't here to argue about his facial features Or here to convert atheists into believers I'm just trying to say the way school need teachers The way Kathie Lee needed Regis that's the way I need Jesus So here go my single dog radio needs this They say you can rap about anything except for Jesus That means guns, sex, lies, video tapes But if I talk about God my record won't get played Huh? Well let this take away from my spins Which will probably take away from my ends Then I hope this take away from my sins And bring the day that I'm dreaming about Next time I'm in the club everybody screaming out

Robert Browning - A Pretty Woman

I. That fawn-skin-dappled hair of hers, And the blue eye Dear and dewy, And that infantine fresh air of hers! II. To think men cannot take you, Sweet, And enfold you, Ay, and hold you, And so keep you what they make you, Sweet! III You like us for a glance, you know- - For a word's sake Or a sword's sake, All's the same, whate'er the chance, you know. IV. And in turn we make you ours, we say- - You and youth too, Eyes and mouth too, All the face composed of flowers, we say. V. All's our own, to make the most of, Sweet- - Sing and say for, Watch and pray for, Keep a secret or go boast of, Sweet! VI. But for loving, why, you would not, Sweet, Though we prayed you, Paid you, brayed you in a mortar- -for you could not, Sweet! VII. So, we leave the sweet face fondly there: Be its beauty Its sole duty! Let all hope of grace beyond, lie there! VIII. And while the face lies quiet there, Who shall wonder That I ponder A conclusion? I will try it there. IX. As,- -why must one, for the love foregone, Scout mere liking? Thunder-striking Earth,- -the heaven, we looked above for, gone! X. Why, with beauty, needs there money be, Love with liking? Crush the fly-king In his gauze, because no honey-bee? XI. May not liking be so simple-sweet, If love grew there 'Twould undo there All that breaks the cheek to dimples sweet? XII. Is the creature too imperfect, Would you mend it And so end it? Since not all addition perfects aye! XIII. Or is it of its kind, perhaps, Just perfection- - Whence, rejection Of a grace not to its mind, perhaps? XIV. Shall we burn up, tread that face at once Into tinder, And so hinder Sparks from kindling all the place at once? XV. Or else kiss away one's soul on her? Your love-fancies! - -A sick man sees Truer, when his hot eyes roll on her! XVI. Thus the craftsman thinks to grace the rose,- - Plucks a mould-flower For his gold flower, Uses fine things that efface the rose: XVII. Rosy rubies make its cup more rose, Precious metals Ape the petals,- - Last, some old king locks it up, morose! XVIII. Then how grace a rose? I know a way! Leave it, rather. Must you gather? Smell, kiss, wear it- -at last, throw away!