It’s been a while since I posted my style,
I paint a pretty picture so you can save the file,
When the colour slap the page and the pen gage all my rage I hit the stage and draw an image of a vision that im wishin’ would comission me to be the voice of my age.
I’m not word perfect, but if I perfect my words I can create a perfect verse that might be the most perfect thing you heard, it’s so absurd that more people in a day will hear the song of a bird than the verse I disperse and to make it worse if it’s get rich or die tryin’ then I’ll be broke in a hearse
That’s the nature of this game, be hot on the mic, go out in flame,
Or stay cold, grow old, never the break the mold, never strike gold but when you go out you won’t be sold so you never sell out on your name.
