Here I am again, on another pad/
Here I am again, tryna think how I'm gonna make the music last/
Cause I know everybody come and go/
But I'm gonna step in as I'm on the ropes/
And I'm stuck inside my head thinking will I ever make it?/
I hate how little that I think I'ma grow/
But, we all have thoughts like these/
And my mind has been clouded lately but I don't smoke trees/
But maybe I should/
Cause like the gas my mind is on E/
So maybe I drift like a wave and figure what I'm gonna be/
Nah, fuck that/
I'ma be here till the day that my lungs crack/
And mic turned off, hand off like a run back/
And nut over the dame game call it a come back/
Annoying every label only till I get buzzed back/
Owens on a beat you can tell that I run tracks/
Not running out of options cause I know that I want rap/
Add a E for me to see if I could give it a hunch back/
And leaving no scraps on the table I'm on that/
Stealing every moment they can picture me on that/
And now I'm at the bat sayin' umpire call that (Strike one!)/
Killin' every situation that i'm placed on/
Put my mask on, sayin' game on/
Ray Charles to the bullshit, with some shades on/
Middle fingers to the ones that say I'm not on/
And everybody that be saying I don't got bars/
I'ma take charge put a socket up your ass just to make sparks/