You talk around events and from the side of your sight
The Benson burns it reflects in your eyes
In the room with the computer in
Listening to music and watching old YouTube shit
How come fire and rain sometimes sound the same?
Look me a goodbye in my eye as I say
It's too hot in here for men with blood in their veins
Faded by dust and darkened by days
There's a choral chorus
And a floral adoring fuss
For us, for dust
But you're too bold thus
You have to be bolder
You've got a big chip on your shoulder

Yo, misleading with lyrics the flow needs to see a clinic
Cos there all on my dick and they ain't even seen my image
I've got portions of chips on my shoulder, and battered fishes
I walk with a devil persona, they gather wishes
I'm in the hands of God and use up all my raffle tickets
Once your numbers up I'll rattle cages, and have them lifted
They don't know who to show their face with, the act is finished
I'm just living in the Matrix, but these girls don't act as timid
Did I cross the line? Is there a limit?
See I'm lost for lines, so I'm saying what I'm actually thinking
I'm gradually trying to say fuck you, and you'll hear the inkling
Subdued by the way I play with words, it'll have you thinking
I wonder what would have happened if I had listened to Mr Simpkins
And really believed that I weren't shit, it has me thinking
Yeah it has me winking
I probably wouldn't be this sick, it has me cringing
But you can see the finger I'm waving from that distance