[Mixed & Mastered by Rich Tha Engineer]

[Verse 1: FinaL OutlaW]

They tell me that I'm an eccentric
And entirely too esoteric to be understood by the average peasant
That shit is depressing
That shit is a lie
I was raised asking habibi to put extra cheese on my fries
We would play next to the miniature shrines of people that died
How does that affect the psychological make up of children?
Will my socioeconomic condition turn me to a villain?
I don’t know
I’m feeling so tempted my values are becoming so low
I find myself empathizing with the homies that chose to buck at the po-po
Oh poverty
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist
Any physicians or physicists to determine my talent is truly a text-book anomaly
Imagine the profit potential
Imagine the touring
Imagine the impact
And pressing a foot on the neck of appropriation like gimme that shit back n***a click clack
You don’t get it
You’ll regret it
Don’t none of you deserve the credit
You don’t have the merit
You better call the paramedics
We talking genetics
You don’t posses the weapon tech or the leverage to threaten a homo-superior presence
In milliseconds with no effort or pressure I can have you edited outta existence
And the only viable method you have is to try to embellish your metrics
You are dealing with a restless indigenous spirit
And raised in the ghetto it really don’t get any better
You mama huevos better get me my cheddar
Because otherwise you’ll be missing forever
Whenever inclined to step outta line with my beretta
If you knew my story bet you be like “Oh My Goodness”
Only 16 when I was introduced to bookings
From Dyckman down to Brooklyn I been out here steady cooking
At this point its sheer neurology that got me out here pushing
I’m like the poison coursing through the blood stream of Socrates
Azteca reimagined burning out Spanish philosophy
You dealing with a God MC fuck a greco-roman odyssey
I’ve got the juice to turn your ass into a wanna be
New York