Beast mode
I ain't got a equal
Blind from the weed smoke
High and I speak dope
Try to compete foes
Fry like I'm the stove
Cry in my sleep though
Rhyme like a cheat code
Everything I s sacrificial
Violins and grabbing tissue
You don't really want it baby girl
I got daddy issues
When I was a lad wit dimples
To compensate for having pimples
Grabbed the mic
And decided I'd rap official
But my status little
Will i expand it
Well time will tell
I can only hope
The next word i write that i find myself
But when you spend so much time occupied
If your rhyming well
It makes a state of mind
I've realized that i am a shell
It's called posturing
Bad habit fostering
Poor mental health
In the cypher
Makes monster men
Sore but in stealth
So the scars i got lots of 'em
A bunch of Mutha fuckers I know
But not a lot of friends
Got a pen, so I can
Some a L, jot down stuff
Say a bunch of bullshit
Hoping i sound tough
Chasing brass rings
Don't catch 'em
Maybe that stings
But I'm too cool to express
All the hatred that brings
And still I'm riding
It probably only on the surface though
I'm still in hiding
But i ain't lost the plot yet
Fuck a law
But I will abide it
Why the fuck these comedians sounding
Like Bill O'reilly
I ain't got time for all this
Bizarro shit
I'm just killing time
Wonder when the narc gon tip
The cops pulled up
Hopped out the car so quick
Wit more big guns
Than John and Nardo wick
Who want smoke with me
I don't even hold a piece
I'm sorta like the dude on the couch
I'm just rollin weed
I ain't ever phased
It's exactly what i hoped it be
I am at peace
I will tell you this
And now so it seems