This is a song about "Optics"

Givin' the topics, spit 'em through optics, from the ghetto that malcolm roamed,

Cause you know, aside from me strugglin' or coming up in one of the most

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

With the finest logic set in motion a plot with televised optics

Conclusion as my optics opt to start perusing

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

Because when i ignite i'm damaging your nerve endings and optics

I'm murdering instrumentals cause i rap with the conscience

Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything

Focus your optics it's obvious they're sneaking

So prepare your optics, here comes the synopsis

Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you can live