Yeah, I'm stepping in the scene, fresh, no script in my hand, Life's a movie, I improvise, that's the plan. Riding beats like waves, I'm the surfer, no land, Words weaving like threads, my voice, the brand. No topic, just dropping bars, spontaneous combustion, My mind's a labyrinth, filled with constant production. Rhymes unbounded, flowing without interruption, A verbal architect, building without instruction. I speak in codes, metaphors, the encryption, Each line a mystery, decipher, that's the mission. No direction, just connection, pure expression, A canvas blank, my words, the only impression. Journey through sound, no map, exploration, Lyrics without borders, my own creation. A symphony of syllables, no hesitation, Rap's chameleon, blending, no limitation. So here I stand, microphone in grip, A wordsmith at the forge, let the anvil hit. No topic, just the music, that's it, Riding the rhythm, in the studio pit.