[Intro: Wiser Observer]

Ya

[Verse 1: Wiser Observer]

Been a while since I've rapped

Voice tracked

No singing, straight rap

Just facts

No concept

Just rapping from my conscious

A simple beat that let's me talk shit

I've been working on my mixtape

Remembering my mistakes

I can't let go

When shit got real my core showed

I was technically right, but an asshole

I'm only one man

I can't listen to that song anymore

It makes me feel sick

Out here whining like a bitch

Makes me want to take down that shit

I'm dodging calls from my sponsor

Thirty days sober never thought that it was possible

I thought I hit rock bottom last year, but I guess it wasn't enough to make me more responsible

Now I focus on work, work on my craft

My final year, I'm scared to relax

A little more focused on where I'm spending my cash

Just want to buy my mother a Jag

But I'm torn, man trying to turn this music to career

I'm busy looking at my peers

Millennial rappers already living lavish

Makes me want to jump on this bandwagon trap shit

I swear the first chance get Imma sell out

Nah

Love my few fans, man

But I need the cash, man

And I need it fast, man

Got a lot of plans, man

They say overnight success takes seven years

And my girl at the time told me I could make it big

She made me feel it real

And I still hold it dear

[Break: Wiser Observer]

Feels like I'm losing-

[Verse 2: Wiser Observer]

Feels like I'm losing touch with everybody

TJ my brother I hope you good

Nathan my nigga I hope you good

Didn't get to see you last time

Two weeks at home ain't enough in this fast life

I'm still looking for conviction

Something to believe in

I want a girl I can come home from bad seasons

Or when I'm paranoid with these bad feelings

I feel the aggression build up inside of me

Pulling back on my emotions handling it privately

But not healthily

But what's new

Heartbreak and Henny is old news

I bleed vodka, I still miss Popka

Lost my inner child I'm a foster

Of a whole new menace

And I'm losing all my leverage

And my mind's occupied by a group of ghost tenants

I'm really scared for the girl I date next

I think I found her, but shit I've got stress

Don't think I can rest

My heavy head, my addiction, my past on her chest

It's not fair

The real me isn't on my Instagram

I swear I need an Oscar, man

Stoicism that's masking my inhibition

My narcissism that's fueling my own depression

But let me finish it hasn't been all bad

I'm just missing the simpler problems I had

Like breakups and blocked Visas

God let me feel love before leaving

I've still got much in my store

A whole lot of songs that I wrote

I thank God for twenty-four

Hope to God for much more

[Outro: Wiser Observer's Mother]

Happy birthday, Tuma. Wow, twenty-four years old, you're becoming a man now. Oooh, only one more years then you're twenty-five. Oh may God bless you; May God keep you safe; May God give you wisdom; May God heal you; May God deliver you; May God bless you; May God give you a pure heart; May God give you the spirit of forgiveness; May God give you, uh, direction in your life. In Jesus name. Love you, love you, love you, love you. Okay, have fun on you day. But don't get drunk. Don't do things I wouldn't do. Alright? Stay focused and study hard. Okay, bye-bye. Love you