Jesse Howard - Letter to the rap game lyrics

It's twisted bits just hear that I'm clicking pics just stare at me If you can't grip the sh** then there ya have it; It's deep, spit this sh** to snare as is Considered it's this or that, I'd quicken to fix a laugh Which withers to mixtures half-pitched. To scripture written up; triggers quick and hits the pad You couldn't picture that Now we could go that scenic route; Rerun style Screaming and teasing foul? I won't go there I'm bout bigger messages; Peace now... So clean it out or scream it out by yourself and team in bouts Yo, screen it out or police it wow... Heard ya botched jotted sh**. I'm lost in offices stocked with lists to stop twists and populaces I'm off the grids; tell my stories Battling's not my style; waste of my time Rather, get wasted in basement chase it with ba**; Snare and state with the rhyme, lime, wasting my time; blaring crates with the rhyme Cuz after it I crash like Ukrainian missile happs on American Aircrafts; f**in hard. Rush commercial lines then it's thunder sound; underground Express myself this music is therapeutic Sift perceptions of info, surrounding situations, projections in ten fold; old and of the newest This is my master thesis letter to the rap game This is my master thesis letter to the rap game I would make a track spanning out my homage. Could take a moment back; spend it, oust my knowledge No drug induced poetry; flushed It's use; less so is meaning When an emcee busts a useless flow, it's seeming Never give a f** with pencil ended maintenance Said it; It's enough over mental spent displaying Never giving up; detrimental dedication Never give a f** sober; eventful replication Put given rhythm to my living to adapt to any situation; With logical perseverance to clash. With any, sh**'s a matrix. Optical blur like spirits; option able to share this If I tell you how "I do me"; I win every time. No commitment to sh**, mixed with being a bum; That gives two sh**s of a f**; what you say or a rhyme. I'd cut my dick off like NoShame and start battling Hynes. Catch up, I'm bout peace! Expressing myself. Telling stories... You can relate too I'm alien seeming humans. Blasting off daily phonics, trail being in fluids; astronomical. I'm in comets sailing scenes influenced. In an O-zone high past my sonnets. Scopin out the provolone astronautic. An astronaut blip. Almost hard to track me honest This music is therapeutic Sift perceptions of info, surrounding situations, projections in ten fold; old and of the newest This is my master thesis letter to the rap game