CHALLENGER'S RAP

• I get the mic and start spazzin, people askin why I start rappin I don't know it just happened, somethin bout speakin things out of my attic, whether emotional or tragic, I be there with a pen writin till I've got it mastered' or I gotta move cuz of a natural disaster, There's levels to this shit, At first it was laughter, like you ain't never gonna blow up, give up is what they chatter, you can't never make it as rapper, go home you ain't never gonna be a factor. Then they was like you aight, but I don't think you nice, you ain't rockin chains, and ya syllables is off you ain't in my lane, I don't hate but we ain't the same,we should go our seperate ways, they was tryna get rich, I was tryin to elevate my game, them niggas got their shot and went up in some flames, then I start to thinkin maybe they was lame. Maybe the radio and TV been fuckin wit my brain, so I turned it off stopped writin a tryna change my ways, always knew I was special so I had to find my lane, jumped in the Benz headed to a lake, looked at my reflection then my life had changed, I started tryin to describe again, usin sentences as the flames behind my eyes again, went home grabbed a heineken, igniting my mind again' writin fire drills like a fireman' smoked till my eyes was red, found the old me through my dialect, manifested my thoughts through the alphabet, turn that shit down a bit, you don't wanna interrupt the gangsta