Verse 1
it's dime a dozen
for mainstream brainwash

yet we're grinding under
articulate chain saws

vigilante gunning
at mass produced lame songs

see I kinda wonder
why they are the same songs

like ratta tat tat with a click clack its sad
that you still don't know

they've been making you impostors
stomp on top your own soul

better learn how to chop with a proper flow
midwest here and I'm on my roll

go solo roam when I'm on my own
through the microphone cord into your dome

I'm molding hope on the road I go
no toll I owe cause I own my own

I know you're told don't show your glow
though it shines so bright and golden bro

we'll take that down with a shoulder hold
and rise above their lowest low

I know my goal
self control

a master in action
is sacred in his day

a rapper with passion
leaves waves in his wake

but laughter is absent
when fakes take praise

and actors are acting
like they run the game

Hook
rapping about that faster life
they don't have the stamina

numb to all the pain and strife
they don't have the stamina

succumbing to their strongest vice
they don't have the stamina

looking out through blurry sights
they don't have the stamina

Verse 2
hip hop and a kick drop
and stick hit on the rim shot

vocals in the mix - I
rhyme right to the tip top

finish no pit stop
flow beyond the sick slop

gimmicks from piss pot
they're desperate, and did flop

listen up this track is hot
room to grow - expansion slot

- substantial, this isn't pop
but it's written out in common font

past the height of a cosmonaut
verbally flowing out ambiance

what is there outside your wants
the global youth need our response

- not nonchalance –
cause so many will live in pain

insane they bang till they all are slain
cock the glock bust shots and thangs

wonder how they're ever gonna find that break
with the weight everyday they're under now they strain

drop the game – just drop the game
drop the game – just drop the game

triple or double or five times over
still you're slow son I thought I told you

I'm putting in work up in my dojo
all that's left now is your photo

you died in the ride when the car collide
drunk and high so fly...good bye

y'all living a lie will limit your time
but I emcee deep when I write my rhymes