Written By: gyp Its a complicated living, just tryna be the good civilian... My head's swiveled on da neck bone like a reptilian... Pay'n close attention like I'm the whole neighborhood watch'n the less resilient... All my numbness has been more than just feelings but now I'm feel'n gyp... So much so, ima bout to get so damn High, when I look up only the ceiling spins... Looks like a giant turntable with a classic vinyl record, label'd "Arrested Development And I'm move'n to the music like a melody accapella I'll soon spit creating an acoustic relic kinda hit... Cause these hard time'n conscious bars are the rival to Lucifer, the devil's fork is pitched... Stab'n at my sacred heart, and the beat's chaffering scars that can never be fixed... Like I'm an All-Star in the playoffs shootn from beyond the arc, can't hit shit... Like I practiced all my life just to get my shot and miss... But there's a catch to get'n a double when the categories trip... It's a hidden talent that scores and boards the assist... An unselfish player break'n the records & teach'n the rules according to the hits... A.I. can never be artificial intelligence if you dont practice to be the best that you can get. If I had gun bars, I wouldn't shoot to miss, nor would I even aim without the dusted pearly grips... But when I shoot you can bet that the bullet's done been bit... By the eye of the bull's hyde, I'm 3 darts in... The game of life is lies, love and hate and I hate to fuk'n reminisce... Especially when it's a page from the life of those that done left gyp... And solitary is the life time confinements that I've imprisoned to live... If I've ever been strung out on dope, then I betcha it's all in gypsy's scripts... With so many punches it's like my fist done hit ya lips... And you suddenly rap'n karaoke wits gyp...