Drew Rushline - For the Record lyrics

[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."