DEFENDER'S RAP

• I'm tryna write a certain type of rap,
• but my ink's always running in circles alike a spirograph.
• Going gold; there's no sign of that,
• puffing my 24K's tryna grow my King Midas hands.
• One flow over the cuckoo's nest,
• chugging booze to my head to get that Lucifer effect.
• Always off my face like the Book of the Dead,
• I can never find what's right & now I'm losing what's left.
• All I wants a whores head in bed like Jack Woltz,
• it's not my fault that I wanna get a bit of brain on these bath salts.
• Got nothing in is just like Al's vault,
• and a few screws loose all held together by some snapped bolts.
• Raised in a small city, not at all pretty;
• pork piggies set you up n' it's no Biggie.
• No hope wit me getting blow-back from coked Whitney's,
• oh the Lord hit me with a history that's so gritty.
•  
• You really think you're sick mate?
• Mother-fucker you ain't shit n' what you spits click-bait.
• Ain't nobody ever listen to your mix-tape,
• you got something to say? You'll get a punch in the face. (x2)
•  
• These ends are packed with conditions that are seeming to bring
• me to the brink in positions where I'm bleeding my wrists.
• Friends are acting like magicians disappearing with tricks,
• this bitch is asking for forgiveness after sleeping with him?
• So I have a can, a spliff of Cannabis then gan to kip,
• my only path is a labyrinth, I'm lost n cannot handle it.
• My life's an accident so I sit as an analyst,
• reminiscing when my bars were hit n' miss like Unanymous.
• Live with the policy; Polis don't treat us properly,
• but some have got to get a lock on keys to get a property.
• Picture the cinematography; in inequality;
• in the country known for royalty but all I see is poverty.
• So when I'm smashing my glass it's not mazel tov;
• it's cos I dropped it getting lit with Liquor like a Molotov.
• Got a false confidence, I'm pointing blank Revolver rounds
• n' the rooms spinning cos I'm the one the World revolves around.
•  
• You really think you're sick mate?
• Mother-fucker you ain't shit n' what you spits click-bait.
• Ain't nobody ever listen to your mix-tape,
• you got something to say? You'll get a punch in the face. (x2)