Just imagine this is really eloquent
Instead of something irrelevant and irrevent
Posted simply for the hell of it
A wannabe classic from a wannabe MC
Scribbles in his rhyme book
He don’t see anything worth sharing in depth
So sticks with kiddie pool rappin
Makes you wonder why he wastes his breath?
He could flip it and tell you about his real life
But he thinks you only wanna hear about his ideal life
Cash and cars and chains and blinding shit
Not rent and relationships and relateable imagery
It’s surprising when you hear his verse
The hollow image he rehearsed and projects
Then see what he writes in that book
More substance in a single hook
Than he ever speaks
And he’ll never understand why they call him weak.
Doesn’t matter what the devil says the weight of the world can’t hold me down,
There’ll be plenty of time to rest when my heart stops beating and they put me in the ground,
Can’t stop won’t stop can’t stop won’t stop running and hustling and putting in work
Gotta get it, gotta go when I hit, hit hard and make sure I get what what I came here for yup!
Oralé say peace to the homies and the blood that got me here
And I’ll never let em down, when I get to the top gonna bring em up wit me share in the view that I got up there
Hear me clear, whether chillin in the cut or putting in work it’s time I invest in the hearts is always well spent
It’s my way of putting my fam and my city on my back, and showing them how we represent.
I’m living future-present like my name was George Jetson,
And while y’all are stuck in traffic I’m cruising high in my jet son.
See that’s a corny verse I wrote last week and I’ve been dying to speak
About exactly why I felt like that was something worth expressing
Matter of point it’s perplexing cause I’m not skying out in something private
Matter of fact I wish I was in traffic cause at least I’d be testing my patience in a ride instead of wasting my time on a neon soaked piss coated surveillance camera
D’ya understand why though?
Because I once dreamed of being a rapper and putting my joys and woe on tape. Or CD… MP3 too fuck I don’t care.
But I didn’t and I tell myself it’s cos that’s the type of verse I’d write, but the reality is I know I’d care too much and write what’s really in me
And if no-one wants to date me, no-one wants to marry me, if I can’t convince people to take me for free then why buy my tape. Or CD… MP3 too fuck why do I care?
The same reason I love KRS’ message but not his verse, the same reason I love my God but can’t be in his church, because I don’t want something I am to be associated with something crazy.
It’s just for once, the crazy thing is me.
I’ve said it so many times I don’t know how it feels
To not regret the words as they tumble and in an instant reveal
The deadness and still, the still unspoken and real
In this moment, how can it feel more than imagination
The separation between that and reality, realised in vanity
By an old mind and an older spirit, is it that easy?
I look as the world melts away slowly this feeling only grows in me
Completeness the sweetest sadness I ask of this nothing
But to only feel it rushing again and I desire, I pretend
That my request has been fulfilled, that this time it’s real
And this is the end of not knowing, that I won’t regret
Mind is fading, forgetting the feeling, it slowly ebbs
Erodes, goes from me and I barely notice
The sweetness, completest feeling returns giving solace
Dead and empty nothing, the greatest of comforts
That behind these eyes is no life