Show Lyrics

Ill Harmonics - Destiny
(from the album Take Two)

Destiny led me to the mic stand
Destiny put his word into my hand
what is meant to be is meant to be understand
que sera sera destiny is the plan
Destiny gave this word for me to speak
Destiny gave this beat for me to freak
what is meant to be is meant to be understand
que sera sera destiny is the plan

Feeling my heart with the heavy palpitation it takes
The breath needed to proceeding a verse and pump breaks
With the beat, seating my mind to find truth
Still reluctant to be pouring my feelings into the booth
While I'm seeking out the route to world tour
But as humbleness would have it I'm sleeping on your floor
Writing raps to map my destiny but I'm losing to the flesh in me
Death could be the only answer, because it seems in this life
I keep falling as a victim to the ways of trife
Living vain trying hard to gain a man's smile so I guess I'll
Hide behind legit styles
Judging my fellow man whether they can or cannot
follow the plot to rhyme hot, man pleasing
reasoning out my season of doubt
and will the world be singing about my ill jam
will they know who I am but regardless, I scar this
cuz I'm living for when cuz when it's done
it ain't about how fresh or how ill
but what'd you do with the calling and the gift instilled because.....

i got the call in december, sort of like a bullpen pitcher
could i emcee and one day become richer?
yes, yes ya'll was my reply to the sky
since it was from heaven, love, the word by spirit dove
seemed to captivate, but at the same time would liberate
me to be free as an emcee ministry
an outlaw throwin' words from beats to paper sheets
and though devils couldn't stand it i was from then on known as the right-handed bandit
i didn't plan it , but thru his grace i received special gifts so i ran it.
like a billiard table, speakin' parable not fable
cause eternally the truth is the only thing that's stable.
a call that many have but few are chosen for
the door is then closed from pride so many are left outside
while others run and hide from the destiny that's theirs
splittin' hairs over earthly cares

still learning lessons, stressing this earth making my birth
worth something other than blood or flesh or a fresh emcee
I wanna be the servant I was made for
The product that my mother prayed for though I've layed more
Tracks than the average man the plan is
Lifting Christ so that all can see their destiny
While I press to be used as a tool of the father
Some playdough in the hands of the potter
categories of allegories representin' me
better known as a rapper, mic rocker, emcee
tellin' others a story about a king leaving glory
to indwell hearts and even hands on mic stands
what's phat, ill, or wack is all opinion, not fact
but the beliefs of these brothers should count more than others
for the emancipation of my mind to create
caused a record crate to become my bait.