I don't spit fire, I compress and I spit carbon atoms not the fallen prophet, I'm the pilfer-fruit-from-gardens Adam When I was born my mom and dad got silver lutes and harps thrown at 'em from the hands of Zeus, it's hard to fathom, I write all my bars in Latin, I see Mars and Saturn in the arches of my metacarpals Papa told me Mama taught the moon to glow and stars to sparkle and artistry herself was startled when she carved me out of marble I don't put a price on life, I sharpie markered on the bar code I had a dream where I came face to face with Aphrodite In a closet full of sneakers, half adidas, half were nike, Wrap my psyche up in styrofoam, my words in struggle raps and double-back them in a couple flaps of verbal bubble wrap My culture taught me I should be afraid of strangers, and be afraid of changes, and be afraid of danger, and I don't want a cup of coffee in the comfort of my cubicle that's why I make decisions where I always choose the stupid one, I must admit it's super fun, and I know where my future's going I mapped the whole thing out at 10 and just now called an uber for it And finally it's moving