Gurmukh (meaning "to face the Guru" in Punjabi) is the practice of following the "ways of the Guru" instead of following your animal instincts and basic desires of the mind. The opposite of Gurmukh is Manmukh.
Gurmukh Kaur Khalsa is a teacher of Kundalini Yoga as taught by Yogi Bhajan and a pioneer in the field of pre-natal yoga. She is the co-founder and director of the Golden Bridge Yoga Center in Los Angeles, and the creator of two books and three DVDs.
Gurmukh was born Mary May Gibson in a small Illinois town. At age nineteen, she left her home to attend college at San Francisco State University in California. There, she married a Ph.D. student and in 1964, gave birth to an infant with a congenital heart defect. The child, named “Shannon Danuele” died seven months later, but not before his mother had a horrible experience with an unfeeling gynecologist, uninterested birthing team, and controlling doctor who would not release her son to her until he had undergone circumcision against her wishes.
Grief ensued, then an amicable divorce. From living in Haight Ashbury, Mary went to Big Sur, then to Mexico, where she hitchhiked and lived among the tribal peoples. After that, she lived for two years as a hippie on a beach in Maui. Eventually, she was led to a Zen Buddhist zendo where she practiced silent meditation seven hours a day, with no drugs and celibate, for a year.
Gurmukhi (IPA: [ɡʊɾmʊkʰi]) is an alphabetic abugida developed from the Laṇḍā scripts and was standardised during the 16th century by Guru Angad, the second guru of Sikhism. Although the word Gurmukhī has been commonly translated as "from the Mouth of the Guru," the prevalent view among Punjabi linguists is that as in the early stages the Gurmukhī letters were primarily used by Gurmukhs (literally, those who follow or face the Guru), the script came to be associated with them. The whole of the Guru Granth Sahib is written in this script, and it is the script most commonly used by Sikhs and Hindus for writing the Punjabi language.
Modern Gurmukhi has thirty-eight consonants (vianjan), nine vowel symbols (lāga mātrā), two symbols for nasal sounds (bindī and ṭippī), and one symbol which duplicates the sound of any consonant (addak). In addition, four conjuncts are used: three subjoined forms of the consonants Rara, Haha and Vava, and one half-form of Yayya. Use of the conjunct forms of Vava and Yayya is increasingly scarce in modern contexts.
[Cormega]
Your depiction of a thug nigga, is fiction
Your words hung my nigga lines were drawn
You sided with the judge I ain't a hater
I don't love squellers thats me
You have the audacity to talk like you real
Nigga you fold under pressure, my life is real
You sold your soul to detectives I could get you murdered
But you dying a slow death denying you told yet
The truth came to light you a fake nigga
You helped the D.A.'s case my nigga
Fuck your life I hate the side of your face nigga
Only a fake nigga would respect you
You went against the cause and signed papers
The signatures yours thats that bullshit pardon me
?Sammy the bullshit? take the stand betraying the fam
Should have kept it real you put your fate in ya hand
I guess thats the way it was planned
(Hook) [Cormega]
There's a a thin line between love and hate and you crossed it
You had respect around the way and you lost it
If a coward dies a thousand deaths how you gon' live?
Nigga you get no love
[Cormega]
Death before dishonor
You sacrificed your breath so respect a nigga power in jail
I get you hit up in the shower
I'm a real nigga I walk the streets with pride
I'm the turth, you living a lie
You a part-time prosecuter, full time ?hosa?
I right rhymes with great'ness you write statements nigga
And think the streets don't know
Tssk, yo it was all good just a week ago
How could you live with being the D.A.'s witness
And knowing ya names associated with snitches
You could pray for forgiveness I'ma fact you a stool pigeon
Ain't nothing you can do nigga, might I mention
Only a bitch would snitch to get a lighter sentence
Take it like a man nigga like official prints and cornbread nigga
I'm a warrior you deserve a bullet in ya head nigga
(Hook)
[Cormega]
Uhh, I'm tired of you coming through like snitching justifiable
I once admired you, you rap bastard
Ain't no need to explain you not my man
Everytime you give me five I wash my hands
What nigga, M-E-G-A bitch tell the D.A. bricks
I move in three days not including the grindin
What polluted ya mind was it alluded time
my words are exulted yours ruin lives
You a disgrace to ya race I'm true to mine
All my doggs doing time, no before I side with the law
I rather ride with the fours and deprive you of your, coward exsistence
You probably send ya momma to prison to beat a sentence BITCH!