Mentalude (Just My Thoughts)

Just my thoughts

It’s not Heavy Mental, but it’s just my thoughts

When I’m writing in my room, it’s like a child that’s fighting in the womb

Not guarded like a mother and

The rhyme is the publishing

But I don’t want it to come too soon

‘cause if the rhyme is premature, that means it’s not pure

The mind is my screen, the footage scenes are raw

The film inspired by the fiends that lean in my hall and killers and thieves who schemed on my flaw

So when I write a rhyme, it seems like I withdraw

‘cause it took a lot of time to find a means for our cure

So I do this rhyme like I was operating

Deliver the right flow took lots of patience

I would head underground and lock my basement

And I suffered [?] while y’all waiting

Now before I begin, first I sterilize every one of my pens

Slide in the CDs of instrumentals and blends

‘cause the pencil’s my syringe

Then I throw on surgical gloves before I write my rhyme

It’s open book surgery when I slice the line

Every stroke, I leave scars

But when it’s spoke, they’re called bars

And what I wrote, it’s for god

And not only smoke to get charged

Now I’m cinematic with graphics

The pen that I craft with is the lens to a camera that the photographer snapped with

Writing rhymes the way pictures are developed

The rhyme has no color ’til I kick it a cappella

Process the rhymes in a dark room, it’s where I edit it

But in my film, I keep the negatives

‘cause it has the gems and all the messages

Step two: put the flow under my mind’s faucet

And turn the rhyme into a portrait

I go there, redesign the orbit, my thoughts lit

Light up my skull like a jack-o-lantern

My eyes disappear then they flash a mansion

Priest the rap Samson

The black phantom of the Hip-Opera

I’m the stenographer philosopher, stigmata of Big Poppa

I’m the real King Solomon, y’all all my hologram