| It was raining, drops were cutting through the mist |
| I’m in the kitchen like a good kid: |
| Hot chocolate |
| Drawing booklets for profit |
| Grandad had some quarters for my project |
| Ever since I had an honest audience I swore to God that I would body shit |
| Life is too short for modesty |
| I was telling myself, upon that balcony |
| My legs went through the bars steady swinging 'til the splinters came |
| Im aiming for the top |
| Whenever I’m dropping, mom even the mockups are hot |
| This shit is better than friendship; |
| They never understand when I begin shit |
| I walk the lower field until the bell hits the wind |
| It’s clicking like these groups of little kids when they get it in |
| But I don’t need to play pretend when I play to win |
| Word to Benjamins |
| Word to everything, these words are everything |
| Or maybe words are just my only thing |
| (Alright, that was it) |
| Dilla died and I was living off his gift |
| I just heard Donuts at the Borders on the corner in La Habra I was over all |
| these people tryna tell me my aspirations were goners |
| I wrote my poems so I could stay in my zone |
| Thinking: Why go to church if I feel God in my home? |
| Maybe, I write because I’m feeling odd in my bones |
| And when I exorcise this demon I’m not thinking of those |
| It’s 2010— |
| I got some shows and I’m finally making friends |
| I’m on the cusp of something big and I can feel it |
| Everything has been building up to this moment—I can steal it |
| I’m just a aphid in the crib speaking major |
| Lip service paid for |
| Showed the whole city what this Wayniac is great for |
| Word to the Kev machine |
| Word to everything, these words are everything |
| Or maybe words are just my only thing |
| I spent the last 2 years fucking up big dreams |
| You never know what you want until you get it |
| The future ain’t set sometimes it’s the little things winning over these checks |
| I had the chance to sell out and I told them 'bout |
| How words are everything, much bigger than gold clouds |
| If I’m a shell of a man my words are empty |
| Ringing through the halls of my bones for near a century |
| Don’t lecture me |
| I see that selling soul get better things |
| And maybe its just fear that’s keeping me from better scenes |
| But I’m here, one piece |
| An uncle and a beast |
| When they hit play they know that 'imma feast so rest in peace |
| Married to the game, but it’s complicated |
| I know just how it works; if I was smart I’d get hella cake |
| Like if I throw a hook upon this beat it’d get hella plays |
| If I just said yes to all these fools I’d get hella paid |
| If only I could keep my mouth shut, no enemies |
| But I don’t see the point in knowing truth and not set it free |
| I can’t both express myself, then play the game |
| If you just can’t handle what I say, then don’t say my name |
| Keep it out your mouth like a foot |
| Rappers babble like a young adult book |
| Look, my trifocal looks could kill some dumb occult crooks |
| Burn a skull, cook |
| If I come out retirement, I got em all shook |
| Let me shake em then |
| Paperless, stirring up emotions with my paper pen |
| If you getting this for free, what you pay for then? |
| Word to friends and them |
| Word to everything |
| But when I die, I know my words will be my only thing |