[Mixed & Mastered by Rich Tha Engineer] [Verse 1: FinaL OutlaW] They tell me that I'm an eccentric And entirely too esoteric to be understood by the average peasant That sh** is depressing That sh** is a lie I was raised asking habibi to put extra cheese on my fries We would play next to the miniature shrines of people that died How does that affect the psychological make up of children? Will my socioeconomic condition turn me to a villain? I don't know I'm feeling so tempted my values are becoming so low I find myself empathizing with the homies that chose to buck at the po-po Oh poverty It doesn't take a rocket scientist Any physicians or physicists to determine my talent is truly a text-book anomaly Imagine the profit potential Imagine the touring Imagine the impact And pressing a foot on the neck of appropriation like gimme that sh** back n***a click clack You don't get it You'll regret it Don't none of you deserve the credit You don't have the merit You better call the paramedics We talking genetics You don't posses the weapon tech or the leverage to threaten a h*mo-superior presence In milliseconds with no effort or pressure I can have you edited outta existence And the only viable method you have is to try to embellish your metrics You are dealing with a restless indigenous spirit And raised in the ghetto it really don't get any better You mama huevos better get me my cheddar Because otherwise you'll be missing forever Whenever inclined to step outta line with my beretta If you knew my story bet you be like “Oh My Goodness” Only 16 when I was introduced to bookings From Dyckman down to Brooklyn I been out here steady cooking At this point its sheer neurology that got me out here pushing I'm like the poison coursing through the blood stream of Socrates Azteca reimagined burning out Spanish philosophy You dealing with a God MC f** a greco-roman odyssey I've got the juice to turn your a** into a wanna be New York