Sharp and your ready, so don't expect respect when there forgetting
Heart is'a machetti, you've been to upset to forget the pain already
The critical is deadly, and the only literal have been so many
But politicals say it's liveable, and so there said to plenty
Thoughts are pennies, livin off words and the lyrics are ready
So I fought to use'em, saught to expand my own amusement
Most boast to abuse it, and used what others learned in music
Words of hurt occured in work with stages of pure depression
Burnt to preferred not to herb book pages of learnt agression
A session of questions is an obesession to my own expression
Hand'a confession to'a peasent really searching for profession
I wanna rap so bad its sad how much I scrap how mad that I stab
Tracks back to back with hacked raps its like I could never have
A chance to show what I ever had, so'a glance at my flow and my past
From'a stance at full blast, talent level gassed, ego up so just ask
An assasin in pen pad and mask, a dutch blunt and'a buncha grass
I'm all high and ready to fly up in skies only dead rappers have seen
So I try and despise my own lied cries what matters is what I mean
To be an emcee for the public, not money and fame, but I love it
God and nothing above it, rap the father I never had, so I hug it
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