Falling Victim

As I let these thoughts langer I stare in the mirror asking questions like who is this stranger.

Am I in danger of loosing all hope my dreams getting shot down by the rangers in anger.

I don't even know myself all I am is a mic trophy gaining dust on the shelf.

They ask cypher if he like rapping I reply hell yeah I love it all my shit gone be original I'll never dub it.

To me rappings my chronic and its an addiction I can't kick so I ain't got no choice but to pick.

Should I get help or should I fall victim to the game or is it really just the fame.

I'm trying to be different from these other rappers they got the shoes money and cars at the end of the day I got the bars.

I'll knock them out with the mettle cordless and hit them with the realness and when they wake up they gone feel this.

The solar radiation I'm radiantly raiding through this conversation.

I'm getting frustrated cuz all I hear is the siren trying to make it out but even 7-11 not hirin.

I mean a black man gotta start somewhere I was born into the lower class yeah its unfair.

But these streets done made me who I am it tought me when someone's raining on my paraid how to build a dam.

You might not understand that if you ain't from where I'm from south side NewOrleans don't take us for granite we ain't all dumb.