Yo,This is a story bout a teen who dreamed to be a legendary rapper
He would bring all his green and lean on the counter
Cd’s bout phenes, screams, 16’s, and mean character
However, lets rewind the lines and drive inside to his mind
Here we can find lies, cries, sighs, eyes, and suicide
Besides all these gestures, were nothing but pressure
Sights of razors, nights of lip-burst, writes of fist-first
“Why did I get hurt? Why didn’t I die in the eyes of stillbirth?â€
“What’s my life worth! My gut is dried up and my stomach hurts!
This kid didn’t have nothing to eat, he would go to sleep, and listen to beats
Or CD’s of his dream team, singing to sleep, bringing heat to his dream
Agreeing with anything speaking about deep meaning
Deep Meaning, about kids who steal to to be eating, kill with a reason
Conceal and keep it real, come feel the appeal of the liberal
Cuz parents aren’t biblical or spiritual or anything on that minimal
“Cuz I’m a , took it literal, now spits it lyrical(2nd)So the third grader was no greater than a parent-hater
Later, his bigger brother made it to a CD player
“Devil’s NighT†triggered and was his first Advisory Sticker
In spite Swifty Mac Vae was his was his favorite rhyming-spitta
His light was Track 17, fight back a these demons
It’s tight that these raps were like his dealings
Free over sweet beats and speak whatever they needed
Until the meat-head beat them, screeched it, repeated
A friend of them gave them the Marshall Mathers LP
Slim Shady from the D’ was on show, rippin the streets
They admired him for his shine behind the fact he was white
Collided with his light and grind, finded out bout his life
Kim was the lovable trouble, Haily was the struggle
Now these three individuals had too much in common
How they grew up getting stompted on when their day started
Departed, and tired of all this nonsense and heartache (knowledge)(3rd verse)In the middle of class the 9th grader pulled out a paper
Spitted and slashed the grasp of full pure anger
Visited and clashed his past as a dull teenager
Decremented and to last his psychiatrist’s and bully’s ass
That evening full of task he added a greater symbol on map
He pinned his typical rap that had more facts than a biblical scrap
And skinned criminal wack ass pretending attacks on tracks
Went down his living room with his notepad, down to his basement demo
And at that moment his mentality went black and a spark of light
Hit his mind, he designed rhymes with blind eyes in pitch nighttime
But the spark of light delighted the daylight of a lifetime
Gave him the mic to rotate the skies, opening oceans and tides
Recorders mixing to shootin bullets, CORTEX, MC to the fullestNow he’s fixed his frown, and is gonna fix up his house!
Mo money, more problems now!From hanging out in cleaners to a lyrical teen
Brainwashed from scholastic, now has a dream
Gaining a heart from getting his ass kicked since dawn
Please God, let me walk out this bone yard
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