This aint for the radio this is for the underground
This is for the wave that know, this is for that other sound
This aint bragging about the flagging
This aint cappin about the trappin
This is more rappin about the rappin
still its real life
I make art out of my food i call it still life
Get caught off in the mood and go and kill mics
In a bag, sealed tight, real type
Short days, long nights, This is what it feels like
Being in a league of your own
Seat at my throne,
Leave it alone
Some ppl Need to atone
They lackin respect on my name
And they speak in a tone
Im Deep in a zone
I dont even see em at all,
Eager to ball,
I dont know the key to it all,
Still learning as I’m breathing while I reach for the stars,
All I know is that I’m seeking to be leaving a mark
Playing my part, trying to stay away from the dark,
It keep grabbing me, asking me,
Where the fuck id rather be,
I dont need to be nowhere else than where im actually at
Passionate rap, used to want a platinum plaque
But I aint in it for the pat on the back,
Im impactful, tactful,
Raps got a bag full,
Built like a statue,
Chill when I pass thru
Bills still past due,
Meal deal fast food,
Ill will bad mood
Chill chill act smooth