[Verse one]

The heart-stopper

Right ventricle exerciser

Stream-of-consciousness style writer

William Faulkner

It takes me back to the days when I would out of Borders

With my hands in my pockets

Couple albums in my boxers

Type of shit that you could snap to

Shake your ass to

That the fellas can puff-puff-and-pass to

You’re on my arm and ain’t coming off like a tattoo

Gave me your number and I ain’t even have to ask you

The possibilities are endless

Jumping through hoops to get in this business

Walking tightropes like Olympic gymnasts

Nothing can break my concentration

Taking life as a gamble like Native Americans on reservations

Been popping that unprescribed medication

Before my days as an adolescent

Before I started leaving bad impressions on teachers

Without having a reason

And Dr. Gidoni called me to schedule a consultation

But every time that I try to be transparent

I just get hate for the fact that I have merits

People laugh and then blame it on wack lyrics

But when I call them out in a battle rap they act embarrassed

(I don’t get it)

Bullies used to leave my eyes swollen purple

But today it feels like a role reversal for ol' Urkel

I just keep tapping to the beat

Treat the 1200 like a potter’s wheel

Mold my clay into a masterpiece

[Verse two]

I’ve seen smokers who used to be like my best friends

Turn their fucking backs on me the second I quit

We’re talking brothers

My regiment

You disrespect him and we’ve got a problem

I’d'a took one to the chest for this kid

But whatever

Fuck him

I guess the final lesson is this:

Teach yourself to forgive ‘cause real friends don’t exist

You want to put your posse to the test?

Put down the spliff

And after a month of that, go see how many still make the list

[Chorus]

People talk shit and don’t expect a consequence

I’m sick of all of it

But you don’t have a problem with

The world we’re living in today

‘til I put it on exhibition or display

People talk shit and don’t expect a consequence

I’m sick of all of it

But you don’t have a problem with

The world we’re living in today

‘til I…

[Verse three]

Dead serious, dog; I’m ‘bout to lose it

You’re holding a dynamite powder-keg with the fuse lit

No time to talk it over, we’re beyond that

You really thought you could walk all over me

And I wouldn’t do shit?

Sorry partner, that’s not the way that it works

If you’re seeking forgiveness at this point, save it for church

‘cause you ain’t gonna get it

And I can go the distance

Tighten my hands around your throat like boa constrictors

For disrespecting me to my back

You can’t pop off and not expect me to react

Bitch, I was this close to calling you kindred

Now I realize I never should have fucked with you to begin with

So watch as a maniacal, wickedly diabolical

Pill expert leaves you pharmaceutically comatose

Inject your unconscious body with a stronger dose

Until your head hurts from all the pressure

And you start to choke