Get off your ass, brother go and reach your goals
Cos you ain't doing one thing to try and make the world yours
Procrastinating, waiting up until the last minute
Sorta like having a car, trying to drive with no gas in it
Surprisingly, when I pick up a pen, I'm passionate
Passing all of my energy 'til my fingertips capture it
My flow's immaculate, killing beats when I tackle them, practicing like it's calculus, accurately describes it best
This rapping shit is mathematics and you suck at it
Let's just say that you haven't necessarily mastered it
Keep at it, man, like I did, and now I'm a champion
Even those that hate me can't tell me shit cos my rhymes are sick
I treat the music that I make like an amulet
Top notch verbalism advocate when I'm on this shit
My name's Linoskiii, or Lino for short, or Lino Skywalker, homie as long as you know the flow

[Scratching: inDJnous]

I'm from Koreatown, I chill in Mid-City, though
Over by [?] and West, close to the liquor store
Chilling at my homie, Andre's pad with the local squad
They know I got love for the homies that post up on the block
I don't forget none of the homies I grew up with
Some of them locked up cos some of them got corrupted
But when you think about it, man nobody's really free
I grew up as a writer, that banging shit wasn't really me
Shoutout to my homies using gems repping [?]
They always had a little homie's back when it came to beef
I put the arsenal down and picked up a mic, son
Cos everything released won't get buffed out in one night, son
So when I'm dead my voice will still echo endlessly
Then you'll understand how genius my lyrics were meant to be
Sent to be intellectually lyric for centuries
Lino Skywalker, I'm barely starting my legacy
[Scratching: inDJnous]

I started rapping like back in eleventh grade
Comparing it to now, I think that I've improved my wordplay
I used to go to J.U.I.C.E. on 8th and Vermont every Thursday
Listening to local cats, I thought that shit was dope as fuck
How they represented the neighborhoods I was from
But, yo, when I was thirteen, cycle round with 2Mex had me feeling like brown was the thing to be
My inspirations to try and be a dope emcee
But, check, I hope one day you grab my music and reflect on it
And listen to my word choice and wonder what I meant by 'em
The sentiment I seem to put into my sentences is equal to the love a young mother has for her infant, man
I'm not a [?] so I'm open to a lot
It's not the only kind of hip-hop, it's just the kind I love
The kind I choose to make cos it's coming from my heart
And if you dig it then for sure, homes, to me it means a lot