What do
you know about writing rhymes
to save your life?
Your only chance to be remembered's
by the lines that you recite
Cause there's no difference between you
and other kinds except your mic
And so if you ain't gonna come with it,
then they'll find another life
So grab that pen and let it bleed
until that 8 -by -11 sheet
And get your confidence on ten,
so them critiques can't tell you she
I ain't fought through hell and brim,
just so my voice can be discreet
And do not think because I'm sensitive,
I'm prone to your defeat
Cause I'm a hard body, god body,
artist from the streets
And if you start it,
I'ma finish your subconscious
while you sleep
Like I'm Kruger, metal fingered barbs
will slice you in the deep
Red and black striping sweater,
suede to let it rot the feet
I am born to win,
so any opposition ain't official
Spitting while you spitting two heads,
let's call that Michael Fisher
Every verse is my rehearsal,
every show an exhibition
Came to build the game,
destroy the hype,
let's call that demolition
This is the handsome
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
This is the handsome
Yeah, yeah, yeah...
This is the handsome
So throw your hands up
Since I was small I knew that all my
dreams would come to pass
What I was waitin' on
would finally see freedom at last
Just ask my daddy
and he'll tell you that he's tired as hell
But he'd work harder if that meant
that I would break that glass
You can't confine me any longer,
I don't fit your box
I'm too complex to be defined,
my mind don't pick that lock
I speak in metaphors,
the better your understanding of me
Cause I don't think you're ready
for how candidly I can preach
I'm at the pulpit
pulling chapters out my background
Editing the rough drafts
almost enough
to make me back down
Turn background and give it all away
before y mirror my mistakes
Like let my fist stop me from being great
How do you think it feels to
be ignored?
Cause you were born
somebody's little girl
And it don't matter if you bust
unless your bust is being explored
I must object to being the subject
of objectified implored
To turn my volume down
until my protests sound like
background noise
This is the anthem
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, yeah, yeah
This is the anthem
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
This is the anthem
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
yeah, is the answer
So throw your hands up
I'm sick of trying to prove my worth
My gift is starduff, it like work
When every word is magnified
And every verse is under scope
Is she that fine, is she fine?
Too profound to mark an eye
No need ap proval to be true
To how I live and when I die
I make life each time I write
Conceive the future when I try
Crap my thoughts into an arrow
Y 'all can marvel over why I want
Tora to be proud,
truth though boys don't matter at all
Cause my music will leave legend
while they post legends of the fall
If I don't pay then they don't play,
so now my debt is null and void
I am free to speak my mind
and not just mine, the latest whores
That too harsh,
pardon me for being too forward
I'm just saying, you sell sex
to what's that called?
It's their game and I'm just playing,
that make me, I sell dopeness
Am I trapping,
hustling hope to broken souls?
I'm packing heat
with every beat that I approach
Till the wheels falling off,
I'm gon' ride for mine tomorrow
Now put that down in history books,
I'm here forever
Fuck the law
So throw your hands up
Oh