Must I bend every rule, disobey authority
to create something new, something worth your listening?
Must I shock or astonish, like the Manet painting
that nearly caused a riot, like the Rite of Spring?
Must I be as singularly focused as Bill Cunningham,
as outrageously courageous as those women and their prams?
Must I cut myself off like JD Salinger?
Should I have dropped out of school, like Passenger?
What makes ReMC dramatically different?
And how can I make them see this radical spirit
has so much farther to go, but feels already near it.
So far away from the gold, obsessing about appearance.
All those extra jelly beans, how will I use ‘em?
Will I listen to what you’re telling me, or will I abuse ‘em?
What will ReMC’s Wikipedia say?
Or will there be nothing, just sepia days?
Why is it so hard to follow my heart? It’s
taken me so far, but I haven’t even started
to unlock the potential of my mind. It’s hardened
by all these expectations around me. So pardon.
business casual-ties
so many dreams deferred in these professional ways
vortex of briefcases and ties
but how can I complain? That’s privilege. I…
fear I will fear I will fear I will fear.
but that fear isn’t getting me anywhere nearer.
Any life in the arts is hard, so they say.
Impossible and stressful. Odds against you. Afraid.
What do you thin-slice from a glance at my face?
What are the insights, subconscious take-aways?
Must I follow in the footsteps of all the greatest greats
or can I try something else, my own makeshift ways?
Address me, call me Rebecca.
She used to rhyme all these simple words a Capella.
ReMC is my Tyler, call her a fighter.
subverting the vulnerability that’s human inside her
Am I strong enough to chase my dreams without looking back?
I’m on the subway writing lyrics, 9-5 I can’t tap
into the creativity
that’s burning my stomach
I want to make art, so how come I’m running from it?
Oh Red Queen! Color my life.
Color my music, color my sight!
Color me ReMC, give me might.
looking-glass world, wrong is right.
Red of innovation,
Teach Alice to play the game
and transform her to a queen like you.
Glass, part with the flame.
I am strong, I am a rapper, and I'll tell you I'm proud
I’ll be wrong, I will be backwards, and I will be loud.
I am a woman. Yes, I am woman, yes.
Nothing more, nothing less, bone and blood and flesh.
