Man my pops had told me son you better choke up
And when you get to the plate, Embrace that no one..
No one, could retire the side without a sign of their pride
Cracking with that one f**ing pitch I know you'll get a hold of, But hold up
This game belongs to you, make it yours
Overcome the sh** that i haven't, that's what I made you for
Just take this sword and arrange the orders by aiming mortars
Facing forward as they lay before you while proclaiming war
I take a tour of this, shelled with performance and ordinance
Twisted and ripped, I move like contortioned tortoises
I mean, A florist is remorseless when it's pouring
It's misfortunate, they're forcing to course it before the torch is lit
So f**ing follow me
If not, swallow me
And become another branch on this brittle looking hollow tree
A f**ing prodigy, philosophy and occupy the dotted line
While copywriting products of democracy
And me casa su casa see, my casa's beat
But we'll make it work I got pasta, tea, and a lot of weed
We'll f**ing chill with it, ill with it sk**ed with it man
I'm back relaxing intact while tatton is heel flipping
You know the usual, it's all voib from my hair follicles
Toe nails, until my motherf**ing cuticles
Throw it in neutral, let it reflect where my head is
And f** the women my exes are Roman Numerals
I'm punching marsupials, I hit to qualify
Shoot the lines together, I'll forever make this column bind
The pot lobotomized the options I have locked inside my conscious mind
Man I bring it out with sh** my doc prescribed
So listen close as this pen explodes with my written notions
Shorten your days, I'm the coldest this is a winter solstice
You b**hes fold when I spit unloaded clips, I'm focused
Dawg I f** the world until her clit is swollen
And man this one is for the narrow minded
Just because there's a pattern don't mean this sparrow flies it
And just because they lack substance don't mean I can't provide it
Man I'll 300 this arrow and leave a pharaoh blinded
I'm Robert Deniro minded, just a Good Fella
Hitting trees daily with the homies, a bunch of wood peckers
I'm bad mannered, relax I pack fatter and crack laughter
At back packers and talentless swag rappers
Cause all they're doing are knocking down what I'm trying to build
And it's unlikely you'll auction out what my mind conceals
And they can try to feel, but I don't think they know me well
So I just roll with it dawg, It's all Franklin Roosevelt
Wake the f** up
(c) - Jay Wirth - Roosevelt // Eclectic (2013)