type rhymes kids blind cuz ya can't see me, i'm like time for fresh lines like weed eating, defeating me my feelings bleed on my sleeve freeze squeezing my chest feeling like i can't breathe. i can't see, i can't be i'm ill eagle fly without permission higher than steeples. you think my style is feeble, your listening to lies then, every time i spit i create an event horizon. wise men spoke of me and the prophets cried philosophers and artists looked up towards the sky and my rhymes rained down sparking 'cross the sky the blinds eyes were opened wide the dead were brought to life, my my the people shouted as i kicked a verse i spit shit from the future kid it's not rehearsed ill eagle aztec used me as a curse. they're like that homeless cat with fresh nikes shreds absurd? oh yes and i been around a long time i went to work with my dad when he invented rhyme. i am so hip hop i hurt the earth with my incredible verse i'll hurt ya one more time

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*yes i hit it rip it when i spit it vicious this is the shit that got richest kids up in this buisness getting up on my steelo and feel no pain anymore i really want to stop smoking weed though my bowls does need a reload man the cycle never stops round and round we go im sick and tired of my addictions that feed my ego ill eagle i live to serve the people of earth a verse before my hearse takes me home.**** in an instant i will flip it switch it up and y'all get lifted I think i'm a schizophrenic (i think i'm a schizophrenic) walk and talk with me and visit every single part of this kid stop ---- breathe and get the air into your lungs and lift your - voice and eyes to the sky wide eyed i'm high on life that might be a lie but i'm just trying to survive so why do i do the things i despise ( ) a sigh of discontent in the winter of my own i feel weathered and bent. weed coma at home, headphones asleep in bed. when i'm alone i think sometimes i'm dead. I"m just being dramatic i'm asthmatic bad at mathematics an addict, not to crack just wack shit that is bad and for me the line is blurry between hobby and habit. and where he hell is God in all of this? what the fuck is happening to me bro? why is this quiet stench the breath of leviathan rising up from under me my teeth are broken vitamins. i've hit rock bottom, the consequences of my sin like watching ashes fall in sodom. i got problems, 99 are my own fault and every time i close my eyes and wish that i was looking at the sky in autumn, Dear jesus, i got a fucked up life you want it? i'm sick and tired of crying, dying eating my own vomit, honest. take this is as a promise. i don't wanna go home with all of this.