[Verse 1: Visible]
And I ain't going back
Ain't nobody gonna make me
Back in high school I use to daydream
Of one day I can rap, as well, as stay clean
Become famous
How long will that take me?
It's on my mind and I just think about it all the time
Doing what I do continuing putting effort toward my grind
Skipping lines, Struggling, hoping just to get by
Dropping rhymes, told I'll never make it
No matter how many times you happen to try
But I know that's a lie
-
I was destined for this
Or it was determined for me
Just a seed born to live his dream
Never giving up, Never giving no f**s
I don't care if I ain't making big bucks
So starting now Imma live it up
Give me mic I'll tear it up
Singeing hair on your heads
With the amount of flames I progress
So you should probably stand back
Probably more than a step
Morphing regret
Like an abortion never kept
You couldn't cut the cords from my chest
So forget worrying bout losing my respect
My dignity and the man on the cross
Is what gets, Hints this
You give in with an ounce dread
I live tho I feel like i'm dead
No purpose other than to speak what's already been said
But yet with nothing
Motivation sparks like a big bang
Then the head nodding starts again
Wiping out, all the sounds
All is quiet, peaceful
Delivering evil
Waiting for the sequel
Tell my heart starts beating
Feeling like screaming
Cause it's k**ing me not to leave
Its hell on the heart
So I express it through this form of art
[Verse 2: Visible]
All my life, I had a vision
Now I won't let anyone take it
Cause I will be the one who rises in the making
I ain't letting this industry take a sh** on me
Living as an independent underground Emineming' MC
Honestly I don't know what the f** has gotten into me
Tell me I won't make it
Rip that lie in half and break it
Scaffold the blind eye, but visible I create it
Tell me if anyone can relate to that?
I feel the hate game at max
Scribbling this pen all over an empty pad
Like I did in math cla**
Sure ain't come up fast
Struggling just to bypa**
With my ideas at last
Get that dinero that's cash
Saying the same sh** as rappers in the past
With a drift in the wind will I make the draft
Or be cut
Tell em, rebel em, repel em
I don't know what
You think of me that much
But give me some trust
And I'll make these f**ers be my lunch