Here I am again, on another pad/

Here I am again, tryna think how I'm gonna make the music last/

Cause I know everybody come and go/

But I'm gonna step in as I'm on the ropes/

And I'm stuck inside my head thinking will I ever make it?/

I hate how little that I think I'ma grow/

But, we all have thoughts like these/

And my mind has been clouded lately but I don't smoke trees/

But maybe I should/

Cause like the gas my mind is on E/

So maybe I drift like a wave and figure what I'm gonna be/

Nah, fuck that/

I'ma be here till the day that my lungs crack/

And mic turned off, hand off like a run back/

And nut over the dame game call it a come back/

Annoying every label only till I get buzzed back/

Owens on a beat you can tell that I run tracks/

Not running out of options cause I know that I want rap/

Add a E for me to see if I could give it a hunch back/

And leaving no scraps on the table I'm on that/

Stealing every moment they can picture me on that/

And now I'm at the bat sayin' umpire call that (Strike one!)/

Killin' every situation that i'm placed on/

Put my mask on, sayin' game on/

Ray Charles to the bullshit, with some shades on/

Middle fingers to the ones that say I'm not on/

And everybody that be saying I don't got bars/

I'ma take charge put a socket up your ass just to make sparks/