Hold my breath under the ocean's surface til my chest be aching
When i write rhymes i go blind and let the lord do his thing
Boy got dollars, pounds or whatever
Are what i wrote and i sent her
I take a deep breath , if i have any left.
They say i walk around like i got a s on my chest
But in the midst of all this anger and this angstnever once did you heard me say
Presidents claiming they heaven sent there scent is stench you gotta stay away
What heaven awaits we don't know
Ballin til the buzzer blow
When you next to medo you wanna test me ?put your tired head on my chest
With 2 15's n a 400 watt amp, had me intrigued as to see what's next.
New racist, too vacant, mutations, natural selection
I'm an adolescent, i'm not heaven sent, here's my confession
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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