Isaac the Beatmaker - Memoir: Entry I/Who Am I lyrics

[Part One] [Verse 1] This is a memoir Of things I think I was sent for A centaur, couldn't k** this, so there for I've lost all hope for a happy ending Depending on whether or not it's worth it Pretending I could be perfect Going nowhere, I notice I'm not the type to lose focus Ain't pulling a hocus pocus Want them to call me a locus Or center of attention Did I mention There's no tension in my perception Of inching closer to a thing they call perfection Seriously, just take me in as I am No need to cram I'm here to jam Can't stand being called Sam f**ing morons, that ain't my f**ing name Guess they ashamed They wanted someone who I just never became But who's to blame if I'm a lion and they tripping over my mane I know the difference in persistence and steady keeping the same old Boring washed up, rinse out and repeat scheme Sour night terrors wanna turn into sweet dreams But we think, distinguishing could f** with the previously Existing pricks to pick up on the game and just leave me Behind, so I just fall back I'm guessing that you could call that A lesson learned from a n***a repping XO with a ball cap It's all rap though, in the end I suppose And I'm opposed to certain theories on how we treating the hoes The saying goes Takes one to know one But no one knows me So here I am just by my lonesome But still ain't lonely The old me, would prolly get a pen and write about it But the new me never write so I take my time and I type about it So whys the hype surrounding An average grown a** kid Wondering what's left to type about it My mind is clouded [Verse 2] Let the wind blow Sun Shining through the cracks If it's as simple as that To find the silver lining Then why in the f** would I wanna spend my time crying It don't make sense but since these dollars make me forget All my underlining problems, I'm bold when I use the pen Molding to something when The brush inside my mind can paint the picture vivid Living and f**ing k**ing to apprehend That I'm the GOAT No need to boast and I sure don't have to pretend I got the mcm, every week All year long Most Creative Music, and it's heard through every song Don't get me wrong, I wanna be on top They'll call me King Kong Play me on BET MTV, Viacom Ride along, don't let me break your Kevin Hart I'll write a song with many punchlines Try to tell us apart Tell me this isn't art I'll draw a knife and stab you with it That's just where I'll start Teach you the ropes before I hang you with it That's the f**ing game you winning Better say your grace like its maf**ing Thanksgiving Teezy got flow, ain't Big or Pac but I'm close How the f** I'm supposed to win when they got me fighting some ghosts I'm so ahead of my time, my parents haven't met me yet I'm a f**ing alien labeled up as a big regret Am I being too forward, let me rewind that Play the good times and search for one that I can pause at Where the flaws at I didn't even edit yet Skin black so they offended by my etiquette Man this praying got me feeling like Connecticut Think about it for a sec, you'll see why I can never quit I'm too legit to fail over some f**ing foolish sh** When n***as tried to help before, I learned they all full of it Felt the motion, put all notions aside Emotion on an override From devotion of loving overtime [Part II/Who Am I] Who am I? This isn't a story about finding myself Cause apparently I've done that But I must've forgot So... The plot thickens This is actually a story about the city I live in The 513, Cincinnati, our views are different If you just listen, a little closely Then maybe perhaps.... You can see my perception And my drive to.... Only reach perfection But that's impossible Right? Or I thought it was... Cause when I thought to myself a new world was born Uplifting, I'll k** it just take a listen Please just... Give me the chance I can break free... Of the confinement they put me in I hear the laughter They think I'm a joke Are they serious? At least I'm doing something with myself... Or I'm delirious Can't hardly tell anymore This city's a bore... There's nothing here for me... My dreams... I can see them slip away.,, Is it sad think like this? Perhaps... But at least I'm honest... Do you ever get that vague feeling of something called DèJaVu? Cause I do