Still D.R.E. Remix

[Verse]

Mental gymnastics, I'm making these words flip

Your vert a brake when I open and slip the disk

Chiropractically not made to withstand the force of my hits

So when they breaking down the bars they think I ain’t saying shit

This is mathematics, you can add me, not subtract me

I’m divisible by two if a label wanna half me (have me)

The first half is lyrical infused with insanity

The second is the vocals and I do that uncanny

Unsigned hype

Climbing up a mountain, I'm due for some barq if these niggas tryna bite (Woof!)

Coked up thinking that I needa take lines

You gotta D on the test 'cause you'rе way past prime

That’s a fail, practically an F and shoutout to that man, I'm a fan of success

Relatability is mе and something I respect

So in that case, NF will still pass the test, it's Dax

Fuck you people tryna play me like I'm not in style

My greatest hits a double every album you compile

I’m running game smoking track like a black n' mile

And picking up this generation calling from a pocket dial

They say that rap changed

Wanna delete me but I cap space, then enter to a whole new data page

My bars alone a span-spain and bring rap back to the classics and the lyricism golden age

They know it’s real, refuse to respect it

I'm underrated but was chosen due to natural selection

Competition isn’t something that I see, I direct it

Then go to war with the person that I see in reflections, still breaking every bracket

My cheddar bobs weaves taxes like I'm B Rabbit

Popping Docs, writing word classics

My punchlines 8 Miles, if they do not understand it it's longer than they comprehension

Not to mention

My independency has been ignored

If sold-out gets applied to my name it's 'cause Dax the brand ain't available inside the stores

And marked up due to an external mediary force

You wanna hear some more?

I got these demons in my head tryna pull me so I’m always playing tug of war

On the edge falling till I grab a bottle, take it to the head and I pass out and I wake up on the fucking floor

You don't know the struggle, shot after shot, thought after thought

Schizophrenic tendencies while grabbing on a mop

Overnight cleaning scrubbing on the same damn spot

Praying for a miracle while looking up to God

Then remembering your broke ass still on the clock

And that 7.25 that you paid ain't enough for a lawyer for the bitch who just called the cops

That type of a struggle

That type of grind, that type of hustle

You couldn't do it, I can see it in your eyes

You couldn’t last a fucking day in my shoes and no way you would last a second in my mind

But I digress, see, you get bitter in this world when it shows you no respect

A cog in a wheel with a message that the algorithm sees but is constantly trying to suppress

Now let's take it back to historical rap

When knowledge reigned supreme and the back was packed

KRS was on the Ones and the twos was stacked

With lyrical bomb threats that would boom and bap

Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five

Kool Herc and the Crew, that was way 2 live

Sugar Hill and the gang with a piece of the pie

Your toothache if you ain't heard of a rappers delight

You gotta move back, can't any erase the classics

This game is a race I'm parked in the field with dinosaurs, Jurassic

Their fossils fuel my gassing

I'm geologically dripped in this historical fashion

It's in my bones and structurally built into my rapping

So when you hear me snapping

Just know it would of never happen without pioneers like Kurtis Blow, Ice T, Rakeem, Run DMC, Jay, Nas, EPMD, Ice Cube, LL and Eazy-E

2Pac, Snoop Dogg and B.I.G, Dre, Eminem, 50 and m-m-Many Men, the aftermath is this

The Chronic destruction of beats from an African

Who rams it down your throat to your abdomen

You squares only plant seeds when in Madison

My Anglican belongs in the Vatican

I Rome beats and I tally more bodies than a priest in the 15th century

To cross me you gon' need Christianity

I'm no saint but I'm Melo like Anthony and ball

In a space where my sanity

Tiptoes up a hill called Calvary where the people preach and blast for me

So I've mastered peace

'Cause there's no limit to their disrespect

I'd be lion if I said I wasn't in the den

That last verse is biblical, if that don't make sense, my name's Daniel, my critical friend

The story told is just beginning as I build suspense and craft my pen into a sword to cut through all this nonsense

I pray you can discern between real, fake and motherfucking hater throwing backhand compliments

Still killing instrumentals, I'm instrumental

This period's defined and cycling through menstruals

Bleeding on tracks with the half-sharpened pencil

So I had to bridge the gap and embrace it like dental

Cut track at speeds so fast that the tempo

Impacts at frequencies that crescendo

Blow minds then fix and reassemble

And penetrate straight through your mental, it's Dax

III