VOLATILE

They said split the smoke from the stone, now I’m cuttin’ through the lies, Burnin’ off the fake till the real finally rise. Volatile thoughts keep jumpin’ out the cage, Fixed in my purpose, I ain’t trapped by rage. Subtle like the whisper that be speakin’ through the pain, Gross like the ego chained up to the fame. Every scar a furnace, every loss a test, Cookin’ out the poison, leave the gold, keep the rest. Pressure made a prophet, not a product of the block, Truth hit harder than a pistol when the whole world shocked. They sold illusion, I was buyin’ till I broke it, Now I weigh every word before I ever spoke it.