-i was a wild child, mom called me vilde kaye
-that's on some yiddish shit, -i was a skittish kid,
-didn't get prescribed any ritalin, thank god
just a fawzie jokester flowin yoda- frank oz
-my streak ran odd -son of some immigrants
-didn't get the fashions of this place, straight ignorant/
grew to be a black bear, americanus ursus/ some
gray up my black hair, but still blazin marijuana verses
-who always stays rehearsin, -every day i face is urgent
-fade away from fake-ass persons -i can see the way they're workin
-i concede my way ain't perfect -i can keep from the craze of the world/ if i
stay with my girl, part ways from my girl, 8 daze from my girl, then i've made the circuit
-that's called the touring life, -for those who're poor in scrilla/ and
can't afford to hit the road, -just keep it pure GORILLA
-i see you seeing the scene in a singular light/ but gotta
surPASS, the grass is greener, beat that chest and keep on fightin
wasted wasting time, tastin grime and grit, finding it
frusTRATing patiently watching the sloppy gettin stage time while
miming spits, combinin trips with legendary artists,
fallacY, reality is they just chauffer, don't go for their
scarlet carpet marketing, i'm~part~of~the~scene, impart~what~i've seen/
imPARtial's~the~thing, not a room full of yes men, to doom your destined, no MF reference
'xcept to the mf's who never pay deference~but always demand, that their name gets mentioned
big fuck you to both you and your henchman, no nepotism? then riding the benchmen
-oh shit, i'm fired up. head~in~a~bowl,~straight friar tuck
seein more green than a tiger cub, at a Ryder Cup, before he right fucked up/ then
pack a bottle rocket, got it launchin, blazin, lighter up
catch me constantly connecting angles with my mitre cutssssss-----
---------- a fuckin buzzsaw,
see o wheelin round at the speed of sound, as i cut all the
particle~board artists i abhor who whore the hardest spittin

marginal and fronting that they're positive, but on the grift and
heartless~dark~in~the~cardiac, turn off the news, then spark my sack
turn up the reggae, burn up the red tape, first to then say: more days like that
-more faith, less maps -more grace in craft
exISting in the slipstream. i'll set the pace,~while ~y'all wait in drafts