This a letter to myself; its me to me
From the person that I am to who I need to be
Deity potential, I be jotting scriptures tediously
I ain't too religious but I still might rock a Jesus piece
Every now and then
Perfect j**elry to represent the timelessness of sin
That's why we get ourselves iced, kinda like they did to him
Emotionless, motionless, humanity drenched in bogusness
Type of sh** that got me feeling bottomless as oceans is, frankly
I tell the people to thank me
For writing rhymes that's as bout as real as that letter from Stanley
The boy got problems, none of which are stemming from a dollar
Most of which are blacker than my collar
All y'all n***as just a bunch of nadas
I wish I could beat em like piñatas til the sweet fall out
Like what that sweet talk bout?
Me and the homies we be working while you sleep on couch
And we be pushing on dray like what that detox bout?
That sh** you rapping, believe me you better dead it
I ain't sugar coating sh** like a n***a was diabetic
And all these new dudes a bunch of clones
I feel that I'm better off alone
I feel good when no one else is home
Maybe that's why I started producing
Cause if I didn't wanna talk, I'd just cook a beat and abuse it
These n***as be talking hard, I see them as bunch of losers
When the phrase they hear most often is that "beggars can't be choosers"
Lost all faith in humanity
Looking out the window all I'm staring at is vanity
Parasitic people, I'm predicting extra casualties
What happened to, amity, sanity, yet malicious resides
Inside the pictureless eyes, nobody fit the disguise
Of idealism, exercise the realism, f** the world
Bust a nut and eat my dust
Muscle up and double up
Time to work, no one gives a sh** about what's beating all inside your shirt
So f** yo heart n***a, show the world your art n***a
And if yo chick ain't feeling it, imma f** her fillings like a n***a inconsiderate
So what you dealin wit?