[Verse One: Illogic]
Most of the time I wonder where the beat is taking me
Walking a never ending road of concepts
A blank page is a vision that I hate to see
Topic upon topic conquered, but what next?
Do I attack head on or maneuver evasively?
Deliver delivery of simplicity or complex?
Maybe react to the wack cats that's spacing me
Or spit a tale from my own context
I would like to stop starving but life's making me
Submit to the politics of fixed contests
While I wait for my fate, patiently
Beneath the breeze on one knee I confess
To the image I reflect that's facing me
In the eyes of God my soul sheds its flesh
So my spirit, it's naked to the heavenly
Injecting me with inspiration to mic check
[Hook]
"Lucky"
[Verse Two]
Now do I wanna make you dance or make you cry?
Or make you bob heads till necks out of proportion?
Do I wanna take a chance or let you die?
Or imprison your mind's mission inside distortion
I serve first in this volley, I'm waiting for a reply
Fans jump to the beat of my vital organ
Before Eve took a bite from the apple of my eye
I was an eagle in paradise soaring
Now I'm looked down upon for asking the question "why?"
And saying that the sober life is boring
Continue to wish upon a star for the next time I'm high
Luckily cop some fresh broccoli while touring
Spotted a nice queen but she keeps passing me by
Cause she heard that I'm into anatomy exploring
Offer my voice as an umbrella to dumb down the lie
Cause inside the clouds of hate were pouring
[Hook]
[Verse Three]
Here comes the butterflies, must be time to hit the stage
And give the crowd the style they waiting for
I've decided to touch ears from all angles of the page
Till perspiration spills through the pores
The word "spits" knit brain cells to a cage as exhausted fans screams for more
That queen watching me?
Her demeanor changed when her bottom lip dropped to the floor
I feel the essence consume me
It's a little strange cause hip hop now is rotten to the core
Is attention and wing span that simple to gauge
Or is the real skill purchased in the stores?
Most of you players, need to retire from the game
Cause your moves aren't as ill as before
While I start first team since I was given a name
I'm on ten years ill and peers remain raw
Most of the time I wonder where the beat is taking me
Walking a never ending road of concepts
A blank page is a vision that I hate to see
Topic upon topic conquered, but what next?
Do I attack head on or maneuver evasively?
Deliver delivery of simplicity or complex?
Maybe react to the wack cats that's spacing me
Or spit a tale from my own context
I would like to stop starving but life's making me
Submit to the politics of fixed contests
While I wait for my fate, patiently
Beneath the breeze on one knee I confess
To the image I reflect that's facing me
In the eyes of God my soul sheds its flesh
So my spirit, it's naked to the heavenly
Injecting me with inspiration to mic check
[Hook]
"Lucky"
[Verse Two]
Now do I wanna make you dance or make you cry?
Or make you bob heads till necks out of proportion?
Do I wanna take a chance or let you die?
Or imprison your mind's mission inside distortion
I serve first in this volley, I'm waiting for a reply
Fans jump to the beat of my vital organ
Before Eve took a bite from the apple of my eye
I was an eagle in paradise soaring
Now I'm looked down upon for asking the question "why?"
And saying that the sober life is boring
Continue to wish upon a star for the next time I'm high
Luckily cop some fresh broccoli while touring
Spotted a nice queen but she keeps passing me by
Cause she heard that I'm into anatomy exploring
Offer my voice as an umbrella to dumb down the lie
Cause inside the clouds of hate were pouring
[Hook]
[Verse Three]
Here comes the butterflies, must be time to hit the stage
And give the crowd the style they waiting for
I've decided to touch ears from all angles of the page
Till perspiration spills through the pores
The word "spits" knit brain cells to a cage as exhausted fans screams for more
That queen watching me?
Her demeanor changed when her bottom lip dropped to the floor
I feel the essence consume me
It's a little strange cause hip hop now is rotten to the core
Is attention and wing span that simple to gauge
Or is the real skill purchased in the stores?
Most of you players, need to retire from the game
Cause your moves aren't as ill as before
While I start first team since I was given a name
I'm on ten years ill and peers remain raw
( Blueprint )
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