Lyrics
I've come to the conclusion,that this mood is
A side effect of using rhyming as an excuse
For seclusion,my minds a mess confusion
Rises to its highest yet despite the fusion
I possess the will to move on It still is too strong
I always try my best and show no signs of stress
I'm focused on my desk zoned in,closer to my death
My soul is in a pen,my microphones my only friend
I hold it till the end,im falling slowly into debt
I'd flow to get a check,but i know it all depends
On you phonies that pretend to know what I just said
You clones ain't thoroughbred,so know who you offend
When the chosen one descends you can say all that shit
Claim you breakin the rules,but face it you bitch
Like kids tryna stay home from school,you fake that ur sick
And smoking a roach is the only time this mothafucka takes out a clip
Loners,posers,fakes,frauds,Fiction-
gangtas,preps,they're all made of gimmicks
Breakdance,scratches,rapping,paintcans
Same fans attracted,having the same plan
My raps,and your graff,or my tags and your track
Highclass,lowclass,my class is no class
I rap for no cash,and i'll spit it till im done
I'm trapped and so mad,but this is strictly for the love
I've seen mothafuckas turn fake to go big
But i stay more gutter then the worst game of bowling
Ever since the first grade ive noticed, i'ma lunatic
Living in an illusion of mischief,a musically gifted
Hooligan moving smoothly eluding the system,its wack
You could only get me in a prison,to visit my dad
Plus, i am ninety nine percent of the crime rate
So you don't know who your fucking with like a blind date
I'll watch the thighs break,and leave em with just legs
They can get they're top ate,like myspace so fuck them
I wait to crush them,i'm huntin em down
So when I get a hype stage,fuck it I jump in the crowd
Punch someone now,and hold em up,until they want ta go down
I Never felt stronger then now,i'll take shots of the toxic vodka on tha
Rocks and never water it down,then have ya like a scared ostrich
With ya head all in the ground
Loners,posers,fakes,frauds,Fiction-
gangtas,preps,they're all made of gimmicks
Breakdance,scratches,rapping,paintcans
Same fans attracted,having the same plan
My raps,and your graff,or my tags and your track
Highclass,lowclass,my class is no class
I rap for no cash,and i'll spit it till im done
I'm trapped and so mad,but this is strictly for the love
I'll kill a critical critic the minute i hit big
Like sharing a toupee,i'm known to split wigs
I'm told that it stings,my swollen fist brings
Control to this king,my flow is distinct
I only drip ink when i bleed,so just think
About the venom inside tha irregulary spreaded saliva
Ima extend like a viper,and get ready to die cuz
I depend on my rhymebook, i write from the vein
I always need a backpack,like im diving from planes
Put headphones on my headstone,and a mic in my grave
A set of raps on my epitaph,and when your writing my name
Don't carve it,let a graff artist write it in paint
Fuck a speech from one of those priests
I want true emcees with eulogie's and a bunch of hot beats
Then when every one is done performing,and im stuck there deceased
I want every song I ever recorded,stuck on repeat
Loners,posers,fakes,frauds,Fiction-
gangtas,preps,they're all made of gimmicks
Breakdance,scratches,rapping,paintcans
Same fans attracted,having the same plan
My raps,and your graff,or my tags and your track
Highclass,lowclass,my class is no class
I rap for no cash,i'll spit it till im done
I'm trapped and so mad,but this is for the love
