My life is photoshop, when jealous niggas don’t feel. They tryna take me out the picture, when I’m keepin it real. It’s like I’m wrestling heels, I’ma get my head locked. I don’t adorn you, but I warned you before I hit that leg drop. Ed stopped, cause the head nigga spoke. The intentions of this lead, alone should bother throats. Apply the proper coats, of this white chalk line. To every insecure beat, and make it love my mind. For those who rewind, the beat struck you harder than me. My due diligence, amounts from the words that I speak. I get beats, like the spirit of a horse. And still a conflicted legend, like the man Mickey Rourke. You get in the Porsche, but I’ma hop on this bike. And every night I come home, my wife can smell my life. She wants me to open up, shes the edge of a knife. But this paper keeps me high, I am structured like a kite.
Posted on: Tue, 15 Apr 2014 11:17:22 +0000
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