Alpha - Intellectual

My story was planned

All was programmed

Crammed at the core, recording dope jams

I'd hold my umbilical cord with both hands and flow to my cardiograms in the calm, I'd go ham, conjure barbaric bars

Ma' could have called me Conan

A cold Man in the making, like Jehovah and Satan's souls had a relation a dope, rapping creation

I won't brag, but won't hold back information

So don't act like I'm up and coming

I'd already crafted four albums in my mother's oven, youngin'

Now when I rap I hold my frigging penis and

Get flashbacks of when I was only just a fetus

Shit, I was such a vocalistic genius thinking; Jesus, one day the

Globe will get to see this, but for now...

I'm just gonna sit here

Patiently waiting