“Feeling like Jim playing man on the moon
Getting lost in the character, carryin a mood
When I’m off & im drifting, might get a glimpse of Tony Clifton,
Drenched in a bad attitude
Adjust the longitude, latitude
Get into a better zone, take a stroll down the avenue
Or hit the trail with my sneaks laced
Deep breathing over deep bass while I try & keep pace
Inhale, exhale while the geese skate
And make ripples on the surface of the lake
Chuck a deuce to anxiety & all of my mistakes
Sweat it out, running routes like Golden Tate
Not from Cali but I still rep a golden state
North Cack, more smack than a pimps hand
I spent August running til I had a limp fam
Thinking bout the next time that I’m gon write a rhyme
I takes breaks, I ain’t every single day with mine
I gotta live so I got something to write about
Gotta fam, 9 to 5, & I’m hiding out
Stay calm so I notice when it’s lightning out
A storm coming, my form cunning, I’m more stunnin
Than stone cold with a can of ass whoopin
Take a seat with a view, ask Whoopi,
I’ll send a spear to your ear like Goldberg
Documentin’ life with my cam like the Goldbergs
These are old words, I just got to em
Like your mama in the kitchen with the pot brewin
Cookin’ something for your soul like it’s deep fried
Drop a bar in the grease let the heat rise
Set it on a paper towel let the sheet dry
Call it finger lickin, walking with a easel drippin Bob Ross with a apron on see I cook a vision Paint a happy tree & mix it with a dab of sun Leave a scripture like a picture sayin Tab’s the one
I master ceremonies very ceremoniously
say they love me but they’re phony with the fee
They don’t pay for nothing, they just stream it on the Spotify
Artists steady gettin robbed for their merchandise
Merchant with a cause, whatchu wanna purchase dog?
They sellin dreams like a scheme but it’s working dog
And honestly, you work hard enough, you can you can ball
Get up off the bench & get a lil PT
Believe me, I’ve seen pawns & rooks who stand their ground, don’t get shook, become kings/queens
...born to run like Springsteen
Confident, grab the mic with a King’s lean
The emperors new rhymes are not invisible
They jump off the page and get placed in your visual Kinda similar to a syringe with medicinals
Mainlining these main lines, I made time
To plant mine like land mines so, don’t step
I’m anti wack shit, take yo whole set
And stand by til we tell y’all to go head
Your damn lies caused panic & code red
But you’re bluff got called like a hotline
Should’ve known when we never heard you drop a hot line
I drop mine & cause lines like stop signs
You drop yours we like, “ugh...stop lyin”
That’s smh text with a facepalm
See I decimate texts with the napalm
King Kong with crown and a cape on ding don ditchin on the rappers & their fake songs”
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