[Verse one]

The heart-stopper
Right ventricle exerciser
Stream-of-consciousness style writer
William Faulkner
It takes me back to the days when I would out of Borders
With my hands in my pockets
Couple albums in my boxers
Type of shit that you could snap to
Shake your ass to
That the fellas can puff-puff-and-pass to
You’re on my arm and ain’t coming off like a tattoo
Gave me your number and I ain’t even have to ask you
The possibilities are endless
Jumping through hoops to get in this business
Walking tightropes like Olympic gymnasts
Nothing can break my concentration
Taking life as a gamble like Native Americans on reservations
Been popping that unprescribed medication
Before my days as an adolescent
Before I started leaving bad impressions on teachers
Without having a reason
And Dr. Gidoni called me to schedule a consultation
But every time that I try to be transparent
I just get hate for the fact that I have merits
People laugh and then blame it on wack lyrics
But when I call them out in a battle rap they act embarrassed
(I don’t get it)
Bullies used to leave my eyes swollen purple
But today it feels like a role reversal for ol' Urkel
I just keep tapping to the beat
Treat the 1200 like a potter’s wheel
Mold my clay into a masterpiece
[Verse two]

I’ve seen smokers who used to be like my best friends
Turn their fucking backs on me the second I quit
We’re talking brothers
My regiment
You disrespect him and we’ve got a problem
I’d'a took one to the chest for this kid
But whatever
Fuck him
I guess the final lesson is this:
Teach yourself to forgive ‘cause real friends don’t exist
You want to put your posse to the test?
Put down the spliff
And after a month of that, go see how many still make the list

[Chorus]

People talk shit and don’t expect a consequence
I’m sick of all of it
But you don’t have a problem with
The world we’re living in today
‘til I put it on exhibition or display
People talk shit and don’t expect a consequence
I’m sick of all of it
But you don’t have a problem with
The world we’re living in today
‘til I…
[Verse three]

Dead serious, dog; I’m ‘bout to lose it
You’re holding a dynamite powder-keg with the fuse lit
No time to talk it over, we’re beyond that
You really thought you could walk all over me
And I wouldn’t do shit?
Sorry partner, that’s not the way that it works
If you’re seeking forgiveness at this point, save it for church
‘cause you ain’t gonna get it
And I can go the distance
Tighten my hands around your throat like boa constrictors
For disrespecting me to my back
You can’t pop off and not expect me to react
Bitch, I was this close to calling you kindred
Now I realize I never should have fucked with you to begin with
So watch as a maniacal, wickedly diabolical
Pill expert leaves you pharmaceutically comatose
Inject your unconscious body with a stronger dose
Until your head hurts from all the pressure
And you start to choke