I’m on that otherNo other with a flow like himPoisonous style, that’s the reason they don’t bite himNo TitanI’m more like a Lyken writingStrive em like triton my spider sense are quiet enticingWhen I’m in the booth it’s curtainsWhen I’m in the streets, its loveI’m simply doing what I doGiving the people what they wantSo eclecticEsotericShock them like my soul is electricThe west coast cherish my expertiseThis sound is astounding, got them bouncing like trampolinesTell me who aint feeling meI show you a haterIt’s either that or I’m the type of artist they afraid ofYo momma warned ya about those monsters under the bedNow I’m hereThis time we come in peace and that’s to reverse your fearSerious as the DoGodOriginal son of the SunI’m shinning bright in yo livesAnd since I’m in the image of it, leave them like oh my god
I’m tryin find something to feelBut I can’t relate cuz I’m realIt’s what the people been waiting forI couldn’t make them wait no more

I grind seven circles round them until they dizzyBy the way my project sellYa’ll can tell I’ve been getting busyIt’s time to separate the artist from crooksSpeaking of truths that can’t be found within the ink of a bookYou only intelligent artificially, we for realI’m way to ill with skill and I be writing songs they can feelI saw the format and said F itI’m working for selfNever let another provide your definition for wealthThis is deeper than rapWe teaching life lessonsMathematic habits, addicts for progressPutting the paper in proper context…
The older new, the newer the olderDon’t really matterWe toast to the truthLive and breathing, DOB from the Beach thoughI’m planting seeds to eventually see all my trees growAnd for I let you out of schoolI need to know you found the toolsTo build your pyramid, word to my brotha Howard HughesLOTLA
I had to give it to them rawYa’ll making my city look badWith yo basic a** flowYou gang bangingThat’s oldWhere your bars at?Gotta check your car faxYou ain’t official with this rap shitBecause if it ain’t jewels, clothes or ratchetsYou lostI was born and breed for thisYou can tell I’m a specialist?With this microphone excellencePessimistic got my blessednessYour hood stripes don’t qualify you to represent thisAint the land of the zebrasMore likeShock the achieversNo, this is not the arena for your ego and prideWe pry open hearts to see if any eagles inside…
I got this juiceWith orange…in the boothMan all of you rapper boofAnd until you prove otherwiseJust give credit where it is dueMany have tried and failedThey still aint F’in with LouDucking the truth like Catholic priestLyrically I show cyphers what a disaster beIt’s a masterpiece.

Truth be told this rap game is mundane
as public education, where they dumb the babies,

and the teachers play around, with the future of a god forsaken nation
I know, don’t nobody wanna hear about that,
they rather I close a book and take it back to the trap
I know I’m playin with danger, got me feelin like baby Jesus in the manger
so I make bangers to get them devils up off me
kill em slow, mastered my craft this life fell like I done lived it before
so how i end up at the liquor store again
playin with temptation and it always win in the end
then i end up thinking about the women i players and shoulda did better
its a cold world when karma come around, now I’m mobbing the streets in this weather with a thin sweaterHow you feel about it/ how you feel about her
Gotta let her know 2xI promise I’m in tune, ya’ll the ones trippin
I drop jewel for the goons and the ones living
addicted to that silver spoon out there in the suburbs
where the grass is always green, not the lawn the herb
the ones who realize silence is consent
and honest bout the politics within
the land of the free been thuggin
how u think they at the top
and every pastor got himself a BenzWhere the passion where the struggle where yo story at
where to hustle where yo grind where yo money at?
did u pay dues or did ya let ya self get used for propaganda to guarantee u don’t lose
so many questions, not enough time to answer
is it really a choice tween broke and buying a phantom
not for the kids in the ghetto
down the street from the kids learning cello
wondering where what they eat tonight
too many syrup sandwiches ya’ll think and why they aint thinking right.