

Look at the proof, the truth is in the daisies, look, what a beautiful world, look how they pay me, a rap pro with a ill rap flow, writin' till my page is lookin' like a tic tac toe, with exact o's and an x for the next emcee who was tryin' to see the context of my bomb text, camoflauge where the verse lives, flowin' like a writer that was only usin' cursive, look at the page, look at your own age, and look at everybody rockin' microphones onstage, look at yourself and look at what you got, and look at everybody flauntin' it while you have not, look, it's all surface and when this earth lifts upside-down thir soul will be found worthless, but for now we still spin, so I'm bathin' in the sun to dry my hair in the wind, and singin'
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