[Verse 1]
f** it, I came up from the ground, now I'm levitating/
Everything around me is God given, heaven plated/
Workin on my strides, like a sprinter at a track meet/
I dove for the front cause I'm sick of ridin backseat/
Smoke in the mirrors when you think I'm just a misfit/
Listen to my mix b**h, impossible ya missed it/
A kid from Chicago, dreams of Murcielagos/
Turnin metal into money, call me Santiago/
I ran for the hills when I saw the introduction/
Faded from reality, I'm seein self-destruction/
Beer bottles layin in the valley of the corpses/
I used ta play a part in all the negative forces/
Cleaned up my act, thought I'd go give a go at rappin/
"you're motherf**in whack boi, you ain't got no talent"/
I dropped it and quit, a couple weeks went by/
But I knew I had ta do it, so I picked it up and tried/
[Verse 2]
Always been a misfit since the day of my conception/
And everybody crept in, and they tried ta mix perception/
Tried ta feed me words, tried ta feed the way I acted/
Bottled up my feelings, then one day i finally cracked it/
People wanna see me as a motherf**in drop out/
Just because I have a different view on all my problems/
Take a look in my life and take a look in yours/
Yo, tryta find the difference, I ain't knockin atchya door!/ b**h
Detrimental memories of counting all my fan blades/
Tryna cover scars, but I'm runnin out of band-aids/
Starin at the stars yo, wonder if they're handmade/
Feelin kinda selfish that we're k**in all the landscape/
What if God's fake? and we're stuck with fate of hate/
And we're never gonna fix it, nawwww, time is too late/
The world spins out, and it falls from it's axis/
People turn ta ashes, our history's a fraction/
[Verse 3]
Diggin thru the dirt, but I'll never find a diamond/
My face is dirty, gotta shave, lookin like a lion/
I'm sick of living like this, is this what livin life is?/
Struggle for the money, find a way out, then I wife it?/
I wanna be Mac, and I wanna be Kells/
I just wanna be that white dude, sellin out the shelves/
I'll take water from a well, call it holy so it sells/
And pocket all the money, buy my ticket straight ta hell/
Ya damn right, I'm a little mastermind/
Find me schemin for a scam in the afterlife/
Turnin water into wine, I could probably trick Jesus/
To let me into heaven, on the honor roll or dean's list/
Down right co*ky, but I see it all as confidence/
When I'm dead and gone I wonder what they'll say in posthumous/
Works and books, I hope to make even that far/
Never gonna retire, comin back like I'm Brett Favre/