Only rapper to take 10 years to make a disk/ Age 12 when I start, 22 I begin/ Music, that's what you call it now?/ If raps dead, I'm digging the coffin now/ Pop the lock on the top, lift the carcass out/ Do a séance, so we can restart it now/ Jay made D.O.A, he a target now/ Cuz he devised the demise of what's garbage now/ But the man in the machine so watered down/ Jay ain't have to do shit, Tony Stark just drowned/ Listen, auto-tuning artists now/ Is simply over saturating the whole market now/ Do you remember, rappers used to carve a sound?/ Now nobody even think, they just talk aloud/ Its a fucked up game, we're apart of now/ The retarded garner the largest crowds/ With this hip-hop shit, yo, I'm far from proud/ Used to have to smarten up, now you smarten down/ Why the fuck would I read what they bloggin now?/ If I don't like what their songs about/ Half of em don't even read, so they speak with a jargon found/ In a red neck low class part of town/ Man, we all had public school/ So why you sound like a public fool/ Probably because you cut from school, thought it wasn't cool/ To be the sharpest in the shed, you're the dumbest tool/ Fuck you, I'm bringing the music back/ To when the dudes really used to rap/ We ain't used to that, bullshit when the music wack/ Cuz in my eyes, really no excusing that/ The truth is back, I'm bringing the music back/ To when the dudes really used to rap/ Jay said it with Drake that i can't bring the future back/ So instead I'm bringing no excuses back/ Only rapper to take 10 years to make a disk/ Age 12 when I start, 22 I begin/

My capacity for rapping rapidly has to be/ From the acid of batteries I extract and then add to me/ So when I spit my electric, rhetoric/ Exits and then connects with attendants senses/ So they can dissect it, uh - piece by piece/ Or reject ‘cuz the message is too intensive/ The second, I resent it/ But to each his...no, fuck that, I'm the best preference/ Lyrically the best tested, yes/ I'm at least a beast, at most the goat, my flow is pro/ Y’all can't really try to put me next to so and so/ Poser hoe, gimmick, whose persona's cloned/ Every other line wrote hold gold or clothes/ Fucking women, or killing, or all the coke he sold/ I just wonder if he knows that he sold his sole/ To a business slowly going broke/ ‘Cuz it keep trying to clone who sold the most/ But look at Mims, no one gave a fuck bout him/ He was hot then his flame went out/ People knew his song didn't know his name, so he faded out/ In the game if you aim to remain around/ They need to know how to differentiate you now/ Nowadays in the digital age/ It isn't just about the music, its the videos and visual aids/ So even if you twittering and getting hits on your page/ Your just another fucking face at the end of the day/ So I say that to say this (pause)/ My brain power demolish you lame cowards, I "reign" like spring showers/ I ain’t nothing to play with/ I'm devising a plan, so when this drop, no denying I am/ Everything that I stated/ No Excuses the Mixtape, listen to everything I've created/

Verbally my words encourage me no insecurities/ I blurt until it's perfectly worded deserting certainty/ And then I rise like/ Mercury in burning heat/ When I third degree burn a beat to emergency/ Something like a word disease/ But no infirmary heard of a cure for me or would work on me surgically/ Because I could react allergically/ So they're observing me and learning me, determining, why I'm, externally/ Spitting into to eternity with no hyperboles/ When I twist the words that I serve like cursive z's/ However it just occurred to me/ Love is blind, word to eve/ Which can explain why with rap I can “NAZI” like Germany (pause)/ But still can feel it in the air, word to Beans/ Still can spit with perfect ease, even though I don't prefer to free/ I’d only lose a battle, (only way) if my verse was verses me, and even that'd be a courtesy/ Rap is filled with perjury, but no one steal my spit till your saliva reimburses me/ That shit isn't concerning me/ I think collegiate like fraternities, whenever I rhyme like nurseries, although you probably haven’t heard of me/ Which is undeservingly/ Because I deserve to hit commercially/ But sometimes it burdens me (pause)/ Cuz my work is worthy of worship or getting undetermined currency/ But preferably I just want my words and beats to serve the streets/ And the suburbs merging these/ Into a converging piece asserting peace/ From the upper echelons to the work released/

Frequently developing/ Showing the skills, flowing for real, givin ‘em hell again/ Periodically I stay within my element/ At the table, seeing it through like some gelatin/ No skeletons are in my closet, can't expose me/ And hopefully you feeling me if you know me/ I proceed like the whole world Watching my life/ Track 1 reasonable doubt, can't knock what I write/ I love my hustle, but its a struggle just to re-late/ ‘Cuz all these rappers up on the charts simply seem fake/ Which creates a climate that I'm not accustomed to/ A fucked up view, from every consumer ‘cuz it wasn't true/ They skeptical/ Actually I feel the same way/ So I keep playing 90’s shit to give me the same space/ But feel as though its losing its mystique, the shits weak/ So instead I write some shit and try to dig deep/ You feeling it?

They say you get back what you give, I put in my soul/ So, guess I'm Shang Tsung with the flow/ Yo, running the town, gunning for gold/ But I know I need to pace it so I’m running controlled/ So, tell me why were talking the town/ When it’s clear I'm the talk of the town/ I was walking as they crawled on the ground, jogging as they started walking around/ As I’m evolving they all followed my style// Now, running it, I’m loving the speed/ See my, bed is a treadmill, I run in my sleep/ And I, keep running so I'm up in the lead/ I'm Forest Gump, who’s fucking with me, you ain’t fucking with me/ Really I could throw my luck to the breeze/ And even if you caught it, still you aren’t gonna compete/ Face it, I run shit, y’all pedestrians/ Really thinking y’all can test me then? Guess again/

I been around the world and I ain’t even famous/ Fam been rich, my apologies for saying this/ ‘Cuz honestly modesty becomes you/ Class with cash, if you got it, only some do/ Class I mean, usually the ones that flash the green/ Are the same who never had a thing: young money/ This is old money, stock broke sold money/ Impeccable credit, never really owe money/ Them, they throw money, look at ‘em, they so funny/ Splurge 2 hundo, pass go money/ That's no money, dummy that's a speed boat/ Not a yacht that you got: sled hill to ski slope/ And I know what the difference is/ Son, I got my degree so I see what the business is/ No intention to patronize, but I hate you guys/ With Rap masks like a Fake disguise/16 And I aim to expose why your flows a farce/ all your cash raps show what your motives are/ We all know why your so bizarre/ ‘Cuz everything about about you is like a show we know you wrote this part/ So I'm here telling y’all, and this the last time ill do it/ My wealth is healthy, accruing and affluent/ I only mention it so to Prove it that my movement/ Is only for the love, man, I do it for the music/ Fuck money Uh, yea, fuck money Fuck money Fuck money (Chorus) Fuck money, this is passion/ Music for the masses/ (Pause) Will you listen to me is what I'm asking/ I don't give a fuck about the cash/ All I want is recognition for my rappin/ Fuck all the (money) Put your middle finger to the sky If your tired of what they describe/ And you wanna find music at its truest with substance/ As far as I'm concerned all of the money rap, FUCK IT/

What's beef? Beefs when the dude’s you was friends with/ Act really funny and shit, u can sense it/ Won't answer the phone, won't reply to texts's/ See u watch how their jaw tenses: friendship/ Friendships an interesting term/ If they’re in it just to get in return/ That ain’t friendship, its self-interest, but you live and you learn/ See how many fake bridges'll burn/ If you call on the friendship/ And its inconvenient/ Would your friend help immediately when your needing it?/ Or would he try deceiving you and make an excuse/ Only play the friend card when he choose/ He don’t know about friendship/ Just ‘cuz he get drunk wit you/ Don't mean he got love for you/ Anyone can smoke a blunt wit you/ But have they hung wit ya?, thru the shit has he stuck wit you?/ Doubt that, fuck friendship, let me clarify what I mean/ Ain’t talkin bout your elementary team/ That's cool if you talk every few years, keeping in touch/ But got to know the few you really can trust/ That's the 1s who your friends wit, not the familiar crew/ Ultimately there will really be few/ But I feel like it’s a blessing and a curse that I know this now/ Cuz I'm skeptical of new friends, but I know who hold me down/ A real friend’s so important to find/ A real friend is more important then pride/ You fucking serious? a real friends real, won't smile in your face/ Then when you walk away hate like a fake/ If he's real, hell address you like a man, tell you what his beef is/ Real Friends don't keep beef secret/ Peep it, uh, that's some weak shit, cowardous/ Leaving somebody you cared for powerless/ So now I just, consider, do you realize/ You killed ties telling yourself real lies to feel fine/ You will find few are true/ But do what you choose to; I'm through with you/ Fuck it

Have you ever felt distant/ From who you hold in your heart, getting older and your growing apart/ Some would label it maturity, While that isnt totally false/ I just don't think that it's the only cause/ Think about how frequently you and your homie would talk/ Went from every week, down to month, slowly it stops/ Staying connected gets harder, priorities change/ But if it really is your homie you should know ‘em the same/ People move in new directions, usually progressin/ But ultimately who you know to be is at the essence/ At the core of him, so if you feel that he switched/ Think back ‘cuz its still who he is/ I bet you that you can recall, all of his motives then/ Now just think about your role in them/ All his motives the same, but probably your role in ‘em changed/ Or vice versa, if you feel you both are estranged/ Which explains why you’re in the position your in/ Looking at who you considered your friend, guessing again/ You were never friends, if your ever growing apart/ Though it’s fucked up, you just didn't know him to start/

What can I say i graduated"/ "Congratulations, Fink, I'm glad you made it"/ But Its sad in a weird way, ‘cuz that chapters done/ And i can't rehash my run/ Yea, no doubt that the Past was fun/ But need to move past it and stash some funds/ "so, (pause) what you gonna do?" Good question/ I love music, gonna make it my profession/8 "Are you suggesting the business side/ Or the rap musician side"/ I don't know, feel conflicted, real mixed inside/ If I, (pause) don't spit will I live a lie?/ But can-I, (pause) live if my ambition dies?/ I like business too, but I live to rhyme/ I know its, (pause) my life, the decisions mine/ But what about the Finkelsteins? Will they think its fine?/ I dono (Chorus) "Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family) Today I know what I want to do but I don't know what for"/ I know what I want to do, that's simple/ Write words to an instrumental/ But if I continue, going at the pace I have/ I'm just gonna have to face that fact/ That it’s only a hobby if I don't pursue it from here/ If I don't view it as a music career/ How can I prove in the mirror that there's really no excuses to share/ If I don't do it for my future, is that true and sincere?/ I used to say school interfered/ But now the only interference is confusion and fear/ Yea, the stakes are high/ Did I really graduate to rhyme?/ Plus tuition expensive, and my fam paid for mine/ So that I wouldn't have to slave and grind/ But if I aim to rhyme, that's gonna be my means/ If I wanna try to break inside/ And claim fame as mine, so do I wanna take a try?/ Or say fuck it, "lets play it safe this time?"/ -So I please you I dono (Chorus: jefferson airplane sample): "Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family) Today I know what I wanna do but I don't know what for"/ Damn, how can I solve this?/ And not, feel, like I am wrong in the process/ My conscience exhausted, it just wanna guide me right/ (Pause) But it can't conquer the compass/ Lost in a conflict, at a fork in the road/ -To be a rapper or a corporate clone/ Can I make both paths converge? Or is that absurd?/ Na, I think that could work/8 But I would have to, get a job that's concerned/ With rap, or, music, so I can actually learn/ And justify not trying to be a rapper first/ Plus my family'll be glad, that's for sure/ And that's deserved, so a 9 to 5 in the game/ Will help and teach me how to thrive in the game/ So I eventually can climb in the game/ And be a rhymer in a dominant way, But for now, I'll be honest and say/ I’ma wait for it (Chorus): "Today I feel like pleasing you more then before/ (to my family) Today I know what I wanna do but I don't know what for"/

Let it be known I'm back in my zone, adderalled out/ Running with bulls I'm a matador now/ Red cape, black glove, white half mask/ (Pause) A phantom in the ring with flag half mast/ For soldiers dying in war/ With no family, and no legacy, this rhyme is for y’all/ For y’all I put my life in the song, Write it despite of the wrongs/ Because society decide on what's wrong/ Armstrong I just cycle along, like lance/ With balls yo, regardless what he hold in his pants/ To live strong or die weak, something to ponder/ ‘Cuz the strength only come when its harder/ No shortcuts to achieve, George W. Carver/ Watch me, like Gandhi, from a starver to martyr/ Like the Buddha, I'm apart of Siddhartha, and he's part me/ ‘Cuz Partly in my heart is nirvana/ And I'm searching for the rest of the pieces/ But what I seek is, keeping me from what will achieve it/ Some of y’all follow my plight, ‘cuz to reach it/ Mean I didn't crave it, and I know that I need it/ Herman Hesse novel on the Gotama, read it/ So you can understand what I'm speaking in these lines/ These rhymes, no dumbing it down/ Smarten up when I'm coming around/ Or get left behind/

For what its worth, every verse's been revised/ Spit ‘em again and again, then I decide/ Once I memorize if I should release it/ Or if I should put it with the other unreleased shit/ Can I find a beat that, matches the flow and the content/ Or should I keep it, see if somebody would want it/ Na na, I'm geeking, ain’t got the fame to get ‘em placed yet/ Patience, Detox 2, I’ll write a Dre hit/ Say it, you don't think I have the drive/ You don't think I have the passion to master mine/ Well your wrong I'm a mother fucking mastermind/ Even those who know me, don’t know the half of mine/ They don’t know about half my grind/ They don’t know when I'm alone in my ride, how I practice rhymes/ Write down new lines just to pass the time/ Got a Garmin to multitask: rap and drive/ Hoping that I won't crash and die/ But ill die for rap, uh, so if I pass its fine/ Give me a track and ill show u how I craft the rhyme/ Give me some time, and observe how this rapper climbs/ To be classic

Spit off the top hot for the krumlife show/ One life to live and there's only one mic so/ I gotta nas it, while I let my man Krum blog it/ Grand slam y’all on some pog shit/ New kid using an old school logic/ Hot as a volcano from those old school projects/ Back in my old school, before I could walk yet/ Before I stacked raps, I stacked Lincoln log sets/ Pause it, let's progress, welcome to my college/ Just was abroad on some Prague shit/ But now I'm back (pause) got an apartment/ Red road commons, living how I want it/ Problems? Only 1, R. Kelly’s in my closet/ Was pissed off, when he pissed on my Lacoste shit/ (That’s fucked up) So I pressed charges/ Against R. Kelly’s little hostage for dodging/ Though the Judge thought it was harmless/ He still had Eminem clean out my closet regardless/ I'm Fink, my bars are a problem/ If talks cheap I'm raising the cost with my jargon/ Used to whip a civic now its porches/ Ha, I'm lying, but I'm tryna upgrade my parking/ So pardon me, but when I just blaze a beat/ Its “Fabolous” like I made you breath/ Spitting lines at the sky so the stars'll meet/ I create every constellation/ The embodiment of modern day god, but don't need any consecration/ Give me some but I'm not Jamaican/ And a mother fucking microphone.../ Matter fact gimme a pencil, pen, or a device and ill type a song/ Yea, Baltimore, that's my rightful home/ Rep the Ravens, but never really liked the O's/ This my life in poem, a modern John Keats/ Or Lord Byron, a raw Paul Simon/ But I'm Fink, this is what you call rhyming/ In 1 week my shits dropping, cop it/