All of you suck.

Here resides a plethora of anathema

Money, crimes and lies stays steady alive

In the unamplified, unglamorized minds

I drive in a fantasized land on Ezekiel’s tires

To slip into the fabric and maximize my fires

I hate having friends in this game cuz they all conspire

They’re hell-raisers, selfish with their attires

 

I wish that you were lying and we

Knew all of the lies from you

I wish that you were lying to me

And I hope none of what you say has rung true

 

But let’s break down my Ars poetica and cut it up with some pliers

Isnt that the irony that transpires?

These frame of paradigms are without design

You make up the swines, anthropomorphized

There’s 4 guys I rarely criticize, everyone else lies

But how can I be sure that those guys don’t act

What if it's an act to see how I’d react

I’m to senseless to sense that they may be juggling just that:

Cap

 

I wish that you were lying and we

Knew all of the lies from you

I wish that you were lying to me

And I hope none of what you say has rung true

 

The artist's progression is not met with any message

Not from you and your fans, your enemies or fam

My collar is just dangling on the fence

I wanna burn all the bridges and never make amends

Cuz my life is untuned, it’s an astute trance

But with nobody to criticize or reconstruct the stance

I can't be disrupted, what you write I hope are assumptions

Cuz if you’re sexing women, doing drugs and flexing charges?

What the fuck are you? You’re a stained “artist”

I’ve built an empire around my mind of fire

And I can’t believe I wish all of you were liars

 

I’m so tired of you and you and you

Y'all can’t get deep, there’s nothing spiritual

Nothing intelligent, intellectual or lyrical

I say it is because I’m lying like the rest of you

So what am I? A hypocrite