Uhh, Lil Kydd...

Let's do it

Since I'm lyrically rich

I'm not in need of a milli;

I dare you to find

One with more skill. (more skill)

I'm like Dr. Seuss if the

Cat in the Hat of his;

Ran away smoking cannabis and

Came back to lyrically kill

Dropping collateral

Like bass in Skrill's music;

And have all remaining lyricists

Find me ill

With no felonies

No background check;

Only eighteen

Dictionary on deck

And that can happen with school

Work ethic;

And all this other stuff I'm expected

To tell the younger kids

When you allow me to

Put my two cent in;

Best believe I don't care 'bout

The hundreds

Keep it real

Stay on, never under it;

And keep going until you're

Six under, kid

Watch your peers get dumber

Every Summer;

And spontaneously come out of nothing

Bringing the thunder

I'm yelling timber at all of these

Quote-mark killers;

And coming for every one

Of them like a once-ler. (once-ler)

Allow me to drop the

Onomatopoeia sodomy;

It's probably improper phonics

To watch a wannabe

Try to go

Toe-to-moccasin;

With this innocuous-looking

Proper G...

And that's synonymous with harmless

For all the fellow artists

Who wanna call me confusing;

For choosing to drop

A seven-dollar word here or there

Some leave their two cent, I got

A pocketbook to spare;

Cause I remember being

An indentured servant

To the idiot box

The other kids would all talk ill of me;

"Who is he? Watching anime

Sucking at little-league?"

I took solace in screens and moving

Pictures;

The rap game seemed to be missing

A couple pixels. (pixels)

I turned heads expressing

Some views that were different;

So when was that synonymous with

Self-righteous hipster? (hipster)

"Let's dismiss him

The kid's got issues";

"Fatherless suburban

What does he want, a tissue?"

Kids would try and give me

A penny for all my thoughts;

Saved a couple quarters and

Earned myself a continue. (continue?)

...It's only clean rap;

That I be soliciting

I'm sticking to the D-Pad

And the set of buttons

On either side of my free hand;

Play my life correctly

And you earn yourself a free man

While I'm in the studio

Perfecting my bass line;

Mother's working two game cabinets

At the same time

There's no such thing as

Middle-class frame of mind;

I'm on my grind, got beef?

Take a number, get in line

So tell me...

Why y'all did it;

Wrote me off as a weirdo

From the beginning

Inadvertently creating

Your own villain;

An alternative rapper

And his chiptune euphemism

This is for the elementary

Kids who gave me mood swings;

For the middle school kids

Who'd rather that I groupthink

For the high school kids

Who say my flows are too advanced;

Power up by power up

I'm picking up a few things

Sometimes my life

Is so confusing;

I gotta stop and clear my head

So I can really do things

So if my goals are crazy to you...

Let me get one oar out

The water;

There's a screw that needs

Loosening

Kid who's ignorant of his

Own past;

Lived his pre and post-adolescent

Years behind a mask

My confidence is a false

Bravado;

Put a brave base on first

So I don't finish dead last

I often treat life

Like a game;

Quit, die or game over

I treat it all the same

It's how I cope with my fear

Of death;

Cause in a game, you continue

To oblivion;

In an ambiguous

Plane

While in real life

You're stuck;

Hitchhiking memory lane

Watching your life tick away

Cause when you're living in

The suburbs;

It often feels like somebody's

Trying to make that clock accelerate

It was a struggle but

I keep myself together;

Spitting over the haters

And spitting under the weather

Spitting under the beat

But spitting under the pressure;

That I give myself

Each pep talk is an angry letter

And that's how I took the

Criticism;

Just try to focus on the

Message and whoever listens

Because hate it or love it

There's never gonna be a difference;

Enigmas wrapped in

Chiptune euphemisms

Life is a game

I take serious;

Yeah, I may crack a joke or two

I may talk slick

Got a line from front door

To back cabinet;

Cause life is one extended metaphor

I can't afford to miss

And Im'ma keep spitting

Spitting for all the kids;

For all the nerdy hipster kids

Who share the corner that I'm in

And when I'm on my last quarter

You can rest and reminisce;

About this little beat that I'm in

Lil Kydd