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Talk to the crowd about the gospel locked in the style... And pass through the masses like it's gossip around...




My mental is... gone... when the pencil's is drawn
the elements of instrumentals beyond ones own potential, to dawn...
That's me... I breath through the beat, no need to repeat
the process... linguistics of dialect when they're speaking nonsense...
To deep for the weak subconscious... they think they're dreaming it...
Blows up in their face if they ever attempt on reading it...
The inception of the workaholics, sitting in a dim lit room...
Like Well Versed, kicking wisdom to
Anyone who's out there to listen... n' shit, their ears are peaked...
Sitting at the pier, unique... lyrics smear the veranda...
Talk to the crowd about the gospel locked in the style...
And pass through the masses like it's gossip around...
The possum is now... hanging off that tree branch too low...
Eyes on the prize, but his rise for it's too slow...
But he was moving, wasn't like it was a stand still...
Overconfidence complex, standing on an anthill... yeah...
I hold twice my weight in decisive fate...
Numbers on the back, like a license plate... showing what I write, awake...
Just imagine what I think of when sleeping?
I'm like a Agent Orange, Bubonic Plague, n' walking off to the deep end
But not for long, huh? Go ahead, take it...
Life's what you make it. That's why there's so shallow...
Wanted the riches and even pictured themselves in it...
But that's a lie they made up - residual self image...
I don't know, what more can be said about this lie still?
I don't believe in anyone more than stories they felt..
to pose as ideal... and yet, we work and we work...
Going berserk... mentally, but on the surface level nobody's hurt...
They don't want to see that fourth wall fall down...
They'd rather leave it up and portray it all in the media...
Social class getting greedier... this business outlook's
Wikipedia... public access to those who know the facts are exposed...
Delicate flower, go and capture a rose...
Broke father didn't tackle his goals...
Going after em' hoes, n' after the show's over?
What more can be done?
Living outside, nothing more than a bum...
They look at us as the more fortunate one?
Like the fortune to run is getting morsels of the portions to come... nah...
A visionary is the one who can see...
the hindsight n' tell the rest who didn't wanna believe...
From the mama who needs the governments help to cover herself...
For the tuition payments and debt collectors coming for wealth...
I humbled myself... there's a stark contrast between..
the reality we see... and the reality we need...
Cause by the looks of things? It might as well be B.C
We'll never be free... it's the longevity of whatever is greed...
Your toe tag? comes with extra baggage and a penalty fee
That preference? Comes with criticism before letting you be...
Sorry... I talk a lot, but it's off the top.
Literally, the guillotine and the chopping block.
Heads will roll, and the swivels are ready...
But seriously, can we be civil already?
What's with the pillaging, killing, it's deadly madness... the world that we live in...
When there isn't enough Food for Thought to nourish the children...
They look to us and expect the world... oh, is that so?
Building blocks for those obstacles make a castle...
Out of the hassle... one of the many....
To tell you like it is, instead of being humble and friendly...
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