[Verse]
It's been a long time coming, but I'm still running
And sure, I got a lot of pain, but I can still numb it
And I ain't been around the world yet, or met that perfect girl yet, but I can tell you I will always be stunting
This my line, don't cross it, dissing time is toxic
I'm exhausted, but I make every second count, so check the freaking diagnostic
Don't mess with my demons, they look like you can beat 'em, but looks can be deceiving
Even if the only stationery I got is a napkin, I'mma write my idea on it, I'mma find a way to make it happen
Sitting in this rocker, I'm tapping into parts of my own mind; soon enough I'll have a whole rap, and
Damn, I know who I am, and in my brain I've got a bunch
Of these disconnected thoughts, is that a feeling or a hunch?
Modern rappers say they eating, but they don't go out to lunch
If the devil try to change the world, I'll beat him to the punch
Breaking stereotypes, knocking the walls down
To hell with anyone who thinking I'mma fall now
I sport a small crown, proud to rep a small town
Just outside the capital, rhyming sk**s practically
Magical; alphabetical syllable slaughter with the sk** of a modern day unk**able Godfather
The oddball of the pack got caught calling attack on whack rappers he previously tried to jack slap
Betting on a black jack, harnessing the power of the Rat Pack
Vocals of Sinatra, but got verses in his backpack
Never scared to talk smack, or to obliterate the beat on which he ain't bout to discriminate
Train of thought has left the station, hairy like tortoise races
Been a lot of places, but none compare to my basement
Really hard to face it; the world is broken, but that don't mean that people like me cannot try to change it!
And it's amazing, 'cause no one in the universe is gonna take my spot after they've witnessed me cue the verse
Coming through, the hearse to carry the beats that I have murdered, so I'm challenging you rappers to do your worst
Up in sh**'s creek I am pissing; it's about time that you listened to the words that I am spitting 'cause there's too much y'all are missing
I'm fed up with people dissing, I'm fed up with the a** kissing, I don't want to make a million, I just want to make a difference
I'm opening my mouth; you've got a problem, duck and cover 'cause once you're exposed to the words, sorry, but you're going under
'Cause pillaging and plundering are really just the fundamentals of the way I grab a mic and begin stunting
And one last thing needs speaking to, 'less you've got a rebu*tal to what I'll say in future songs, beat it brute
Go back to where you came from, but make sure that rappers fear the dude who flaming on the mic up to the point where the whole beat is doomed
And the neighboring studios will board up all of their windows and surrender by raising up a flag that's checkered
But this race is just beginning, so it's best you run and hide or else you'll witness everything I go through for the record
[Outro: Frank Sinatra]
"I would like to be remembered as a man who brought an innovation to popular singing; a peculiar and unique fashion. And I wish one of these days somebody would learn to replicate it so it doesn't die where it is."