The truth hurts, hard pill to swallow. Leader of the pack, I'll sick, Spit gospel, write a novel. Fire in the booth, Make mics melt, Put ya soul on the track, They hate love ya self. It's all about expression, Grind study lessons, Hip Hop forever, You got any questions? i got some fucking qestion for you god what is fucking god is doing now head bad boy in the fucking hood i thake in my hand a pencil and ride my rime on the paper and i hade a hard life whit my fucking familles and my Brother and my mom i miss my fucking soso i am so happy i am stil am a live i have some fucking accident whit my fucking old job the fucking peuple thing llll me and i am stil a live me i have a good life whit my wife and kids Pick up the pen, Write down the lyrics that Come from your head Straight from the heart. Even the Best rappers ever had to Start Somewhere, Very far from the end. So pick up the pen. Write down the lyrics that Come to your mind. If you’re not serious, then You may never find The voice inside So once again, Yo pick up the pen.