I typed up a text to a girl I used to see
Told her I could really have her, but only in my own dreams
Lonely and static means to dethrone the practice that brings my habits crashing to ashes like plane accidents passing you in the street
I’ve got the tea if you could steep this low
Believe me, it’s beneath these flows
In pieces of the beats if you could keep afloat
I think you know the sleepless nights deplete my life of leisure
It’s a meager life, I mean I’m like a weaker Jesus Christ
The things I write just get sticky like Korean rice
Money would be nice, but I’m only here for the compliments
Use competition like condiments
Calm my vision, con a script
Penny for a thought, I get dimes in the form of common sense
The scent of winter on my breath
I sent that bitch another text after she ignored the first 26
I'm a wordy bitch, word to RZA, GZA, Inspekta Deck and the other 6 I’m fucking sick
Flooded with thoughts that often drop from my pores
The oppositions enforced, which opts me to get remorse
The object of all the noise in my head
I’m fucking dead

Given the fact, unoriginal rappers diminish
And slather positions like plaster
For the top spot like Windies (Wendy)
Before they become Casper
This is not a new chapter, this a new book
There’s no actors, characters, barriers
Bear in mind areas that seem scarier from where I grew up
I knew of as places that carried words, curses and cultures
That bury us in a merry hearse
Just cause you’re passionate don’t mean you’re very worth
Your small words don’t satiate like small meals
Flaws fog a vision all reveal
That I’m holdin onto like caulfield
Hoping they will all heal
I fall ill when songs kill