[Verse 1]
1996—
It was raining, drops were cutting through the mist
I'm in the kitchen like a good kid:
Hot chocolate
Drawing booklets for profit
Granddad had some quarters for my project
Ever since I had an artist's audience, I swore to God that I would body shit
Life is too short for modesty
I was telling myself, upon that balcony
My legs went through the bars, steady swinging 'til the splinters came
I'm aiming for the top
Whatever I'm dropping, mom, even the mockups are hot
This shit is better than friendship;
They never understand when I'd begin shit
I walk the lower field until the bell hits the wind
It's clicking like these groups of little kids when they get it in
But I don't need to play pretend when I play to win
Word to Benjamins
Word to everything, these words are everything
Or maybe words are just my only thing
(Alright, that was it)
[Instrumental Break]
[Verse 2]
2006—
Dilla died and I was living off his gift
I just heard Donuts at the Borders on the corner in La Habra
I was over all these people tryna tell me my aspirations were goners
I wrote my poems so I could stay in my zone
Thinking: Why go to church if I feel God in my home?
Maybe, I write because I'm feeling odd in my bones
And when I exorcise this demon I'm not thinking of those
It's 2010—
I got some shows and I'm finally making friends
I'm on the cusp of something big and I can feel it
Everything has been building up to this moment—I can steal it
I'm just an aphid in the crib speaking major
Lip service paid for
Showed the whole city what this Wayniac is great for
Word to the Kev machine
Word to everything, these words are everything
Or maybe words are just my only thing
[Instrumental Break]
[Verse 3]
2016—
I spent the last two years fucking up big dreams
You never know what you want until you get it
The future ain't set, sometimes it's the little things winning over these checks
I had the chance to sell out and I told them 'bout
How words are everything, much bigger than gold clouds
If I'm a shell of a man my words are empty
Ringing through the halls of my bones for near a century
Don't lecture me
I see that selling soul get better things
And maybe it's just fear that's keeping me from better scenes
But I'm here, one piece
An uncle and a beast
When they hit play they know that 'imma feast so rest in peace
[Instrumental Break]
[Verse 4]
Married to the game, but it's complicated
I know just how it works; if I was smart I'd get hella cake
Like if I threw a hook upon this beat it'd get hella plays
If I just said yes to all these fools I'd get hella paid
If only I could keep my mouth shut, no enemies
But I don't see the point in knowing truth and not set it free
I can't both express myself then play the game
If you just can't handle what I say, then don't say my name
Keep it out your mouth like a foot
Rappers babble like a young adult book
Look, my trifocal looks could kill some dumb occult crooks
Burn a skull, cook
If I come out retirement, I got 'em all shook
Let me shake 'em then
Paperless, stirring up emotions with my paper, pen
If you getting this for free, what you pay for then?
Word to friends and them
Word to everything
But when I die, I know my words will be my only thing