Yo so let me bless the beat let it play as I meditate over symphonies I rap for a days and them days I done turned into weeks and at a week I sustain infinite heat and for me, that’’s shootin’ the shit I dont just do it for kicks I do it for snares, too organs, and synths shoutout to all the instruments that play an instrument role in make sense of every inch of my soul lyrics and brains lyricists claim that they bang say they write the truth and reflect from where they came but no, they don’t do it to grow they do it for the sake of doing what they think they know how do but its all good no shade thrown like forreal, dope stay dope but the whack’s fame grows and it’s stupid to me, like lemme write all of their eulogies I don’t mind a couple of deaths to save the music scene ‘cause you see, where I am from, the culture is weak soon to be something currently nothing to see except for a couple of empty pens with no ink I’ve adopted a method of letting it go when I speak I hold nothing back, ‘cause if tac gets enough that rap won’t recover, from the cracks that’ll come with that Laugh, ‘cause I am literally in a better place higher state of mind, rhymes expressive like pantomimes watch my lips move as I speak to you urging death not to speak to you let the music seep through you coursing through your body it’s a seed, and feeds through you and it sees through you and you’re weak, and the key is to seek truthful emcees that can speak to you Lead you on a path of self-discovery of your past and I can hear you screaming to me

I don’t know I don’t know man lemme think about it ‘cause I ain’t got nothing planned I ain’t playing ‘round I really want a deal with devil I’ll sign over any record you want from just lemme get a taste send me any tape beat, instrumental, trap or drum and bass I’ll rhyme anything money with money bitches on bitches anything to get me out of this shit where I am living my favorite rapper is Doom Too old school uhh, Snoop Lion, never dogg Lyin’? never dawg Spine severed if I am lyin’ cut it off I am tryna get involved revolver to my dome if I am playin it soft I’ll study Young Money learn what they about I’ll give you my soul long as the money counts this is movin’ too fast lemme think about my fans I don’t wanna lose the loyal ones that I already have But my momma need a crib my baby brother needs shoes I wish my homie’s still around I wonder what he’d choose live a life of lavishness or freedom of expression, shit it is what it is, money is money, I’ll do it for my kids fuck it, hand me the sheets, hand me the pen hand me the snapback, the tight pants and the raggedy ass stats and the pre-written raps, full of drugs and bitches I will never ever have music for money, man I thought you’d never ask god given talent live spittin pellets on’em

Hook 1: There’s one man, said to carry all the pain the world With his pen, he uses it to turn them all into words and I stand for whatever he’s worth Verse 1: He once was man twice been a legend ice in his hand future so fluid, solidified in his hands but when its time, he knows he’ll get to rhyme his foes, will fear his words as he speaks assertive, consume, then regurgitate heat latter day scholars, all of them harbor the beast within they can sense his aura when he’s awes them with speech He’s a god amongst gods, and they all honor his lead fables have been told about him pantheons have been gone left amiss when left without him only the bravest turn cowardly ever doubted wolves howl at his presence luminescent within his darkness has developed his prowess The elders t Hook 2: There’s one man, said to carry all the pain the world With his pen, he uses it to turn them all into words and I stand for whatever he’s worth Verse 2: He was a slave I was slave laying across my tomb with only my death to await Reap what I sow my soul reaped with no hope my hope diminished under unfinished work the elders gave me the torch and I scorched it with dying flames I carry it through the pain amongst my generation, laymen to my brain recognized as a peasant but lessons taught to the fortunate frequent within my message I died within my Score my lore was kept alive by followers of my tomes honing my leaking pen, wielding it a sword I cut through my competition my only foe is my own I wish they’d try and listen, but like the legend that I became my fault is in my credit only later will they embellish my stories are amongst ten but only then will they respect it when its all said and done I falter while in my fame and my story becomes a legend

I am tired of eating and drinking and, All these humans activities meant to label me as normal I do no conceive myself as ordinary I lack a meaning but I'm struggling to find it It slips through my fingers like dripping rain And there's a storm outside And there's a storm inside I do not belong to existence --I stumble into it Stop trying to make me afraid Stop wasting my limited time I want to create something that lasts

I am not the poorest of the poor or poverty stricken but relevant to me, the thought of living life was inconsistent lackadaisical, and meaningless so, I took the liberty of cleaning up but I found the scenic route constant thoughts on the idea that maybe I could stop and try leaving out the exit door but I refuse to have a fuse in my conscience I am locked in a pit of limited oxygen very little options, very little breathing room heave on the mic and leave it combusting in fumes accustomed to use ink as blood when it depletes, I pique on drugs and listen to my art for a muse I learn a lot from music how I use it you misuse its ability to kill, and bring life in youssof useless methods of intentional harm punching walls, and ashing my skin with cigarette buds hot metal on my wrist, as it burns, I feel commited sins wash away as if I prayed and tried to repent but in my mind I resist any form help from any mortal attempt And the more I regret, the closer the morgue seems to get I am on the verge of asking for an insanity plea to excuse my death as a message from humanity, please understand I was under distress under the mess I come asunder as my conscious is split but its a problem when I consciously spit because my mind is too fucked for any of you bitches to comprehend