Verse 1

Spittin' a flow over the goat, no nonsense

Writing I know, lettin' it go, that's progress

The beats are ridiculous and the drums are my instrument

With an instrumental given, my delivery's imminent

Yeah I'm foreign to these, but I was born to achieve

Tracks I'll work till complete, then I sell my CDs

My artistic ambition, it'll lead to fruition

To the people who doubt me, know that I'm on a mission

Know I'll put on my Timbalands, hit the stu, go to work

Record One in a Million, makin' stuff you ain't heard

I'll keep learnin' and searchin' so I can make avant garde

But my music is nothing if I don't givе it to God

For this track they applaud, yeah I'm talking the audiеnce

Not the claps in the bars, yeah I thought that was obvious

Know I just bodied this, leave the chef all my compliments

Or give him my digits and say I'm ready to conquer this