[Verse 1]

When was the last time you gave the truth an opportunity

Opportune time to stop being a slave to my poverty

Proverbs predict placement, pray probably

To stop the robbery of me from my display of immunity

Usually, I'm suitably, sitting in the background

Eyes closed to an open world, the blindness is profound

Surround my senses with hate, have them covered in tape

And drain me through wet dreams before I wake

I break when I place my foot on the brake

And life doesn't decelerate so I'm no further from fate

Wounds salted to exacerbate

The condition in which I'm living

Spend your whole life with a vision

And die the day before it all comes to fruition

I told the world that they should give the truth an opportunity

My community instead steals my youth and unity

Usually, I become aggravated and I hate it

Spitting the best bars today and my skin keeps me segregated

But still I can relate, I grew up poor

Wishing for more, I stretched before

I reached for a handout or I tore

You couldn't break me, my spirit is eternally lit

I spit this shit and ever so quick every fan jumped onto my dick

I kick, hard as I can, until the day I get home

When I'm alone, I reach for the philosopher's stone

And Spitiful the lyrical miracle performs musical magic

The illusion of owning the world when you still don't have it

Can he hack it? Would he make it in the Big leagues?

Questions I ask myself and answer when the pig bleeds

Mystery and intrigue over where this life will bring me

Quickly, you blink and it's gone

Slow it down, take oxy moron, I'm drug free, that's an oxymoron, bumping oxymoron

Calm me down to the snakes in the grass I've depressed

They've grown to be the size of the loch ness

And their teeth are ready to bite in cold blood for hot flesh

Still, I lift the world like Ken Patera

Still strong enough to clap the ass of Vida Gurerra

And outrun Ferrah

Leave the faucet dripping, I'm a contradiction

Shooting blanks living in a Contra prison

Tonkas wheels spinning, I'm running over opposition

Obsolete when you speak who you be this is audio battery

Who is me? The S-P-I-T, give to me the GOAT and I'll feast on he

And his veal, how it feel

To know I'd chop down that family tree

Baddest lumberjack on the planet

Planted my feet on the ground and you can't stand it

In a world that's corporate-branded I am to change the demographic