[Verse 1]
This is the old school rhymes for the old school times
Took the lift to the top of the grand arcade
Started playing beats Friday Night Lights and the Pharacyde
Over on the far side by the empty parking space I write/
Similes and metaphors of my life through the mic
Sighting colleges and other buildings on my right
Sipping my ideas finding the best amount for flight
Progressing with the flows realise I'm a master with the kite
See it moving every way, transforming in the night
Kevlar in my rhymes saves the game and it's plight
Relaxed with my syntax, even though it's minus five outside
I should really study schooling stuff before I find myself behind
I'm 15 had enough that's why I have no fine health and rewind
Vinyl records 45' to find the scratch and sample line
To help me hit the limelight have fun with you in the funnel lights
Startle with my cla** of rhyme, a parcel on the greatest night
Hook: Stories through my love
Stories crafted by my glove
Stories for the club
And the stories for for the cubs x 2
It's the old school rhymes for the old school times x 4
Verse 2:
Crafting in the cave had enough of these stalagmites
And the stalactites crying right above about to die
My pan of fire trap of d**h for any rapper writing rhymes
Freestyling in my studio cables in a crazy bind
My head hurts every time I walk in when I hit the aerial
Scent of aerosol cause the foam on it is very new
My birthplace and my burial, my journal through your radio
Zane Lowe calling up execs to play me on his show today
Treating prose like clay and forming new and special shapes
12 years old I heard this noise my follicle it moved with poise
To the music as I felt the joy within my loins
Let me be frank on this joint like swiss tax/
Not in it for ma**es of the pages on the contracts
Founder of that Cambridge lyricsm that's a known fact
Transition to my ambition trapped in a little prison
Here to show you my visions with wisdom within my writtens
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Let me tell you why they're deciding to sign him
I tell concise stories about my youth plus lies and sin
Tight denim, black sb's vintage Adidas jackets
Herschel bags relaxed drug antics within the attic
Not to mention I talk of world affairs that we have manage
In a world full of a flakes and racist states, slaying of Asians, fake narrations
Kuwait's crates of oil and offshore havens in the Caiman Islands
Every place new slaves are trained to buy stuff for their lives
That lead to constant d**h and ma**ive waves of health declines
Lack of education leads the blind inside the brain we're chained
They tell us that the sky's the apex and any dream is time constrained
Well I'm here to stay stake my place in the USA and space
I entertain veins pulsing in my neck with what I strain to say
Don't taint my rain falling out through my larynx and the palate
Where I formulate my painting no matter the cash around it
Purifier and nasty truth, then I vanish from this rap sh**