Food For Thought

They call me Random Black never squeezed a mac

But I could portray a gangster but I'll never do that

Cause that shits whack, outplayed, outdated and I say it

With my heart most of you fuckas just fakers in the making

The root of all evil's what I'm chasing with no patience

And the fragrance of my blunt will have most of you chumps shaking

It's no crack if that's what you niggas thinking

In fact it is nigga but it's green know what I'm saying?

And if you don't not a single fuck was given

Catch me sitting in the kitchen pitching thoughts for my mission

You wouldn't get it if I tried to explain it

You'll get lost in your thoughts as if I spoke a different language

You in a box and I'm on the other side

Try to get up on my level I advise to hitch a ride

Decipher lies to the niggas that be blind

Taking time out my day to try and open up your eyes

Most of you niggas don't give a shit where ya life goes

But me I tried to fix that shit as if it was a typo

And like those we all make mistakes so I ignite dope

And try to find solutions while I'm higher than a light post

And like light post I be shining in the dark

Or attempt to at least shit at least I got some heart

Niggas claim they making moves still standing where they start

On they grown man shit still standing at a park