"[1]

If I end where I started, I bet you gone know the difference

This is living, not merely existing—bars without the prisons

Far beyond the glimmer of prisms reflecting light—

My father was so dark that I’m bright—sun of the night

And you’re loony to think the tunes you’re confusing

With you consuming the fruit of the tree of knowledge

Are any truer to you if you got it. See, if I start where I finish

You’ll see the difference in presentation, delivery, understanding and memory

Remember, if you can see the forest and the leaves

The branches and the trees, advance and then recede

Then maybe you can see there’s an art to the game of war

Start just a day before, and end with a 24 to relax

No basketball metaphor, but even still

If your Achilles Heel is revealed and you need to heal

Nobody wants to hear that you’re resting to get better

They’re more or less on quest to investigate your succession

[Hook]

If you call what you do rap—I say you shouldn’t do that

If you insist, then I suggest that you do this:

Call what I do something that’s the total opposite

‘Cause we don’t do the same thing, bruh—that’s kind of obvious

I say there’s room for us both—but who am I?

And people seem to be cool with confusing you and I

But I’m not

And I’m aware how the moves in the game are played

But how ‘bout we just call a spade a spade

[2]

To this new generation of “emcees,”

On knees, giving new definition to succeed

Take this as a warning, and take pause

Take a look in the mirror, witness what you caused

Identity crisis, pretending to like what I don’t

Is what I don’t do. I’m really polite

When it comes to writing nice shit

My pen’s on the night shift, bar hopping

Trying to scribble some lines that are jaw dropping

I often fail to engage in the conversations occurring

That start with “back in the days.” I’m more concerned with the current

But currently, If I’m looking for flow, then I guess I oughta

Play my own shit, or find a body of water

That’s deep, ‘cause it’s really the way I feel

But it’s also kind of shallow. I understand the appeal

Of appearing to be persnickety, flipping, lickety-split

And then splitting some dividends

I guess this is where it ends and begins

[Hook]

[3]

I call a spade by it’s name. No faking jacks, or no bluffing

The heart of a king that’s beating when speaking over percussion

Conducted by Preme—call it a premium pre-production

Cause this is teaching, and THE main feature will be discussion

So, see, mane: Let me explain just how I does it

You do it how you can. I do; however you doesn’t. No man

Woman, child, could a style ever create—to see A

Dot. Stop it if you trying. No lying. No standing near him either

He’s a monster breathing

Fire. When I sigh, it’s sayonara to ya—see ya

I applaud ya’, patna, but this part of writing speeches

For me is like comparing snuff to art inspired features

I murder beats just to bring ‘em back to life and let you witness

Listen, be convinced that it’s a sickness I’m afflicted with

The sickest shit you ever want to say you ever saw

And you can say you saw it from the start."

[Hook]