[Intro]
I ponder whether God is sitting, spinning the globe or not
Conscious of the rhythm and soul or the rock and roll
Blueprint pop, hip-hop
Obviously not anymore

[Hook, Term]
I ponder whether God is sitting, spinning the globe or not
Conscious of the rhythm and soul or the rock and roll
Blueprint pop, hip-hop
Obviously not anymore

Thought whatever glittered was gold, it’s not
Gotta have the rhythm and soul or the rock and roll
Blueprint pop, hip-hop
Obviously not anymore

Not anymore
Obviously not anymore
Ohhh, Ohhhhh

[Verse 1, Acumental]
Yo, yo
I wrote this verse on 4/20, 2014
Out of boredom, but mainly for more money, uh
Smoking my earnings, deeds dirty and done for dirt cheap
Verbally stun the world when I speak, you gotta
Nurture the seed or the shit won’t grow, you gotta
Give to receive, that’s Quid Pro Quo
A noble kid with the Skid Row flow
It’s so simple to see
Steppin’ to me, you better tip-toe slow
'Cause I be, jack in the pulpit like cat’s cradle
Breaking the bank at the craps table
I can't take it like Shaq’s ankles
A square shape with exact angles
Praying at mass, I’m mad thankful for the faith in my fans
No if, ands, or buts about it
I’m busting out the bunker, hunker down in public housing
A couple thousand coming up, and I’m the one surrounded
So I should probably feel cool, but if you ask me how I’m doing, I’ll say fucking lousy
I’m just a lush carousing loudly to the subtle sound of silence (Hushhh, can you hear it?)
Conduct a seance in a Scion at a 100 miles an hour on the highway
I’m high as a kite, inciting a riot, sound the sirens
[Hook, Term]
I ponder whether God is sitting, spinning the globe or not
Conscious of the rhythm and soul or the rock and roll
Blueprint pop, hip-hop
Obviously not anymore

Thought whatever glittered was gold, it’s not
Gotta have the rhythm and soul or the rock and roll
Blueprint pop, hip-hop
Obviously not anymore

Not anymore
Obviously not anymore
Ohhh, Ohhhhh

[Verse 2, Term]
It’s Term (And it go)
Sure as shit prefer a different approach
Twirled the piff and burnt my lip on the roach
I writ what I wrote in a world of critics
It isn’t supposed to encourage mimics in particular though, oh
They do it everyday, break the rules and regulations
And might use a weapon to settle the disputes
Recluse in the basement, obsessively connecting clues to the case
Am I the True Detective or Reggie Ledoux?
A penniless fool destined for mediocrity
I’ll never be cool, the debt gonna lead to poverty soon too
Surrender your sovereignty
We’re expected to live dependent in the pen with the rest of the bottomfeeders
Drink the half that’s full, fill the half that’s empty
Sit and pack a bowl in an acid frenzy, in fact
I never leave the trap, imagine that
A penny turned to Benji’s in a flash
It’s magic jack, average ass rappers in the back of a Cadillac
Traveling faster than the speed of light
Strap me in for the ride, passing the piece, pipe
Ac and me after the key to life like