The flight of the mic, When i Write is a sight to be seen Bite on my teeth Jet fighters they flee, Won't like When i'm mean Got caught in a thought, that memory brought saw clouds in my dreams Intention does gather up plots, my projection does not matter i'm lost My vessel travels the black sea, Where stars are the only light i can see My senses became pretentious, advice to learn the vice When i breathe Heard me that i been on this Journey, for many years i saw time as disturbing A burden the sands i Watched and Waited, i became impatient With these earthlings Embracing the facts been given a task, Removing my mask seemed much Worse Possibilities are vast if i Remain intact, logistically i do the math, its time i Returned to Earth So much doubt, do i deserve my Worth I guess i can figure that out, on my Return to earth Doubt in me Who Will Welcome me, do these fools Remember Who i used to be To survive i had to Remove myself, convinced of the end is What the noose did seem Can they look past When i'm Within the grasp, is my changes now my attempt to act To a**imilate to appease my dinner date, no answers collected but i continue to ask Stressing how do i stay on this path, i'm not among those Who believe a grave is a trap As i leave these ideas i gain focus, hoping What is Written can be saving my a** These Words be the bridge from my mind, even i am sometimes afraid to look inside For the ink touch the unconscious, the Freudian fears should be avoiding my peers They can't begin to comprehend, my thoughts must block this not pretend So defeated With a flow the meanest, i see the structure to ensure this is not the end So much doubt, do i deserve my Worth I guess i can figure that out, on my Return to earth Can't escape my lifeless debates, took my vows and i Was proud Riddled to get Rid of my soul, Widow'd took my Wife to the gates So much time to Replay my mistakes, memory set in tableau Distorted the history to fit to me, purpose in my Words When i Rap slow What keeps me going i don't know, but it seem i ain't the type to plateau At least not until i get that feast, stain my teeth in the blood of the meat Those i defeat they carca** on the table, spark up blow smoke through my nasal Relax and find a place comfortable, out the Womb i Was the Runt of the batch I stayed on my path and Won the match, sit on my throne a moment of entitlement Catch a sight of him the Whitest grin, not a bit sadistic Would he like to sin No need for a fixed prescription, Return to this planet to see how the script ends