Still Sore

Sometimes I brag like Cole, sometimes I'm real like chance. Throwing punchlines in the ring, bet you can feel my stance. Every time I touch the pen I get these healing hands. I tell my parents look what listening to Villuminati can do for Shauny. Sorry I don't care for trivial problems, got too much on me. Killing me is what it's doing softly, I once had the truest army. This life shit isn't through assaulting. When you've been losing so much, you wouldn't choose yourself. Mentally you were losing health. The sadness you were hiding started losing stealth. Watching one of your best friends start to lose himself. And you can't say a thing because of the position he put you in. But he's as far gone as the places you took the pen. He's broken your trust to the point where you never could again. But when you didn't have a place to lay your head, he took you in. For a month and a half, and he never took a rent. Been through a couple bumps and bruises, never took a dent. Stayed down even when we were fed up and upset. At that point it's a brotherhood, that's better than a friend. The type to see your wallet out and never take a cent. Never fell out far enough to mess up the ascent. One of few who rode with me back when the Jetta was my Benz. And stayed around to see me turn the Jetta to a Benz.
 Am I trying to make amends while painting pictures with the pen? The window to my soul, introduced you to my pane again. Am I supposed to apologize to the people my pain offends?
I'm stepping to my canvas, I think I'm about paint again. Lost so many people that I got better at making friends. Ain't much to talk about with income but I'm making sense. Let me coin another line that never fades or bends. It's authentic, my heart's in it. The spark spitting and now you're seeing that my art's written. And that my thoughts gifted. How I can talk pictures, and I can toss pitchers. Because I've got the juice, you can't say I'm not the truth. I do me the best I can, I'm sorry if it bothers you. Said sorry to my pops in June, ain't talk to mom until July. For what started end of May, whole month I wondered why. That's when things got kinda ugly, late night sobbing, crying. Took the pen around the world, yeah my lyrics started flying. August I dropped down again, September dug up thoughts of dying. October was fucking terrifying, felt I lost it all again, felt I had to toss the pen. Lost my girl and lost my friends. Lost my own mother for a while, is this really worth it? Telling you the story of my life, and it's written perfect. The first time you're really getting to hear one of these written verses. Thinking bout the fact that I'm gon spit it and I'm getting nervous. I've got you flowing with my letters like it's written cursive. Painting intentions, this is my purpose. If you're paying attention you'll see this isn't worthless, and that the kids a wordsmith. I watched the apple of my eye become a slithered serpent. That was a terrifying feeling, but I'm really learning. That not everybody's built like me. Not everybody can tell you how they feel like me. Not everybody can really keep it real like me. So if she ever love another she gon still like me. I tell my story so clearly I make you feel like me. And you know I'll never change, I bet I'm still like me. A couple years from now after that first mil I see. When I'm dealing with the jaded and the jealousy. And when the game ain't asking "who the hell is he?" Josh at the computer producing therapy. Getting paper with J Rock, feeling Kendricky. Off these written legacies. I fed to feed and said the seeds, bled to bleed and read to read. Lead to lead. Mastered all my weaponry. Lyrical artillery, I lost my thought I had to heed. Came home to some Bullshit, you should know I had the heat. That D. Wade line make you think I rock a hat with 3. Probably something Chance would speak. Gave shorty a glance of me and now she always answer me. Can't focus on who don't call no more, just focus on my calling. Josh cooking up the beat, he got it in the cauldron. Soon as I finish this verse I'll drop it in the coffin. Hip hop & other genres, at Rockwell's recording. Jazz gave me the blues, guess I'm not that important. But I put my soul in everything I speak, I put my heart in every single bar I tweet. And this is all flowing out, one take. Not a single bar I tweaked. Moving forward, not a single bar deletes cause every single's bar's complete. Why we miss mates when we see its obsolete, that's the type of bars I really often speak. The ones that really hard to think, for the average person. I'm killing it but this is just one of my average verses. Old white faces, I've got really deep lines. Somebody ask Chris about that obsolete line. I'm gone. No room for that other verse, so I guess I'll just have to save that. Just know I'm back on the rise, I got Chloe and Wave back.


Told you about everything that's hurting me, there's still more. Cold world, I'm wishing that we could chill more. Flow sick, and shorty's the only one I'll pop a pill for. Been almost a year since the night I was raped and it's still sore. I take the shutters off and show you my pane. I was stuck in the storm but I drove through the rain.
 Dealt with the bad elements. Overcame a rash reticence, Surpassed precedents of past presidents. The future so I'm past present tense. Victim to their brash negligence, delivered a lyrical mass exodus of black excellence. I want the money yet I'm aware what the cash represents. Thought I had a couple wins, they resulted in asterisked attempts.
 Told you my past with the pen, as I presented you my future. Wrote my life story, if you read it I salute you. Cleaning my room, clearing my head. If you've been reading I can't wait for you to hear what you've read. Every time I jot my heart down, my spirits ascend. Every single verse I write is like a spiritual cleanse. Took a couple lines from the other day then took this verse the other way. Throw in a shoutout to Nae, a smile spreads as my cousin plays. Shaun's got a way with words, there isn't much he doesn't say. In pursuit of my dreams, left them sleeping in the other lane. Can't write this cause I can't spell it, I was thinking __________. I've gotta pay my dad back, I've gotta get my mother paid. I'm working like a lab rat on a job that doesn't pay. Lyrical artillery, no weapon that he doesn't spray. Gotta end this verse with something dope, make it resonate. Hit em with another hard bar, make it penetrate. Shorty thinking on my level so she let me levitate, met her now I meditate. Because of that a head'll ache.