[Verse 1: Adam WarRock] I am trying my hardest to speak in the way that the spark hits Hoping these darts that I spit can hit the target And I'm on it; my heart's been hit with the arrows of artemis Pharaohs talk of this; I put the mic in the sarcophagus But every rhyme is just a piece of the puzzle; piece of the pie Reach with the muscle; I speak through the lies Reach for the skies; John Dillinger holding a tommy gun Public Enemy in my headphones since ninety one, yo Apocalypse never felt this great Nor was the wait for when I co*ked it so I spit that hate Nor was the places that I lived that made a kid this way Or in the people that affected every second progressing Cause the music it keeps changing; tastes: they keep growing Tunes that need playing and tapes to which I rapped aloud I'm simply trying to find a place for me to lay up and write Chill with my friends and all our troubles: we can laugh it out Joules produced it; Tribe One contributed to it Brewed from all the doubters that ice-grilled me at school But then I went and sliced their faces stupid Now everyone's smiling like The Joker produced it Batman sweeping in; I'm on that new sh** That kinda sounds like old school music Mixed with Protools in studios where ipods That influence the kid down in the south To grow to do as he do, kid But it's more than just music It's art, that's crafted with rhyme and mastered in time And blasted back in your eyes so when you listen and find All of the rough edges and patterns we used to hide behind Now all you do is step inside [Hook] Paper cutters and the dangling headphones And I'ma keep rocking til the family headstone Claims me from my home space and so we can head home Did I stutter let me say it again, yo Paper cutters and the dangling headphones Cause I'ma keep talking with these randomly said poems Make the dope beats for the fans that we kept going So welcome to the show, let's begin