I was cursed to write this verse imperfect
In cursive, to show them the depth below the surface
This is hell
Well, some live on this earth as jail
So these bars a well
Well, here's something to quench your thirst
Sketch a hearse before I draw
Stretch a word like eight balls
But I stay in the pocket and they scramble like egg yolk
I soak in knowledge, take out the garbage
You just sit and let it stink
Smell the odor from the older generation who didn't think
About the youth, this is truth so the fear it
Im steering with my will, can you feel it?
With lyrics and drive, we moving forward, in time
I'm spittin different from the rest, quick shiftin for the chicken, chickens giving out that neck!
We just giving that feeling: Cape Tipping tryn live with no stress