Verse 1

Spittin' a flow over the goat, no nonsense
Writing I know, lettin' it go, that's progress
The beats are ridiculous and the drums are my instrument
With an instrumental given, my delivery's imminent

Yeah I'm foreign to these, but I was born to achieve
Tracks I'll work till complete, then I sell my CDs
My artistic ambition, it'll lead to fruition
To the people who doubt me, know that I'm on a mission

Know I'll put on my Timbalands, hit the stu, go to work
Record One in a Million, makin' stuff you ain't heard
I'll keep learnin' and searchin' so I can make avant garde
But my music is nothing if I don't givе it to God

For this track they applaud, yeah I'm talking the audiеnce
Not the claps in the bars, yeah I thought that was obvious
Know I just bodied this, leave the chef all my compliments
Or give him my digits and say I'm ready to conquer this