Now they're placing stress adjacent to my racing head
Erasing checks from memory and pacing cause I'm raising debts
Phase me next the heck could ever do it I feel lazy yet the man is telling me that I'm not man enough to place the bet
I’m way depressed it's fucking messed up they should pay me less And maybe next It wouldn't be so hard to lay respect Down in the dirt and blaze a path
I AM lazy face the facts I face the fattest blunts complacent laughs relaxing while I'm taking dabs
I’m backwards, haphazardly stab rap in the back cause
Rap is just an act and actually rapping is a backwoods
A savage on the track i’m never stepping back i’ve had it with these maggots only wrapping when I snatch them off my gift well
I’m a maverick, magical, magnificent and radical
It Tastes Devine to taste the finest minds to grace the pad and kill a verse since marshals math was ill
I could graph the skill but that would take the time away from times I'd spend in action smacking tracks
The stack of facts is real but lacks financial backing still as images the image is we're living as a package deal
Well we should reenact the spiel of Jackson looking at the mirror asking what has happened; should I change the way I act and feel?
I don’t know, so…
But we could be en-lightened, don’t be frightened, the light is right in the
Minds eye we
Mightn’t yet be ripe but the bight is tight and the vine’s high
No need for waiting we can re-awaken the bright times
Achieve it with the patience of patients pacing the pipelines
Around the corner
Truth I’m spitting call me sojourner my sound was born of the former to form a sort of informative I’m
Bound to spawn a, revolution using a pound of commas pouncing on this instrumental and trouncing the phonics astoundingly honest around the symphonics of byte size, Be a nice guy, in light we’re on a path to the night sky, Matter fact I got a bowl to pack for the bike ride, but step into the moment own the fact that you might die
Slicing and dicing the likes of your favorite rapper
Teach em about the rhythm of life righteous the patterns
I might bite when I'm mad but I’m quite nice with a pad and pen
(itentiary is) The tent area is housing all the masters with
The path to pass the past like its a pathogen
The pastors with the math, the actors with a passion the reaction isn’t happy but relax i’m bringing back the pen, with an elastic phren
I roll myself up
Dust off and i’m back again
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