sick of hard times n stress never ever wanna be depressed again got raps in my notepad all you mother fuckers know that go get your Kodak snap a pic fresh attire check the fashion bitch while I'm rappin shit the schemes doing drastic flips I'm passionate causin magic tricks with my pen fuck all my old friends acting down they were the anchor holding me down from spitting this explosive sound metaphoric uzi poppin' shells on the ground like Halloween hearing horror screams like a horror scene don't vomit please toxic concoxions Molotovs n weed aiming for the top lames in my way needa get shot believe it or not struggling stops not getting busted by cops blood n custard will drop flat on the floor dreaming of tours and cds in stores shades gleaming of course unforseeable force I've seen it before people doubting my skill I'm proud of my will astound bound and I kill droppin bombs like vets in the field give respect or get peeled like a potato meal save your feels