Twang. That's the sound of the twinge of my pain
I'm feeling every single day but yet I still sing in the rain
Simple and plain, I spilled my milk and it's leaving a stain

Life's a uphill battle soldier on all that %#@! is cliche
It's tired subject matter. Still, I can't wish it away
It's honest, I'm boggled by all the %#@! that should fit in a day

I promise to produce get on it, handle my business get paid
Trying is the operative my conscious is slipping away
I've gone to lounge upon the cloud the ninth let the symphony play

I claim I wanna stop it's bull%#@! I stay fishing for praise
Gotta nine-to-five it slow and steady for winning the race
But I stop, start rhyming, grab a pen and stay spitting for days

and $#&@ the praise just drop it on em Flex keep it spinning for days
Have Lishuss piling dollars up and getting the thickest of chains
no plays though, not paid dough, I lay low, subliminal range

making minimal change is criminal when my spit is like %#@! in your veins
Horse. Don't touch the H I'm not a dead beat
force my point like needles stab skin over dead horse beats

Please add some needle scratches, fan will get more treats
while they let pores weep, two steppin, "get yours, T!"
is what they yell for me, naw see I get to dreaming

demons haunt me rendered harmless when the beat is set and seeps in
straight to the bone let it soak in like it's tussin
feel the hum of subtle nothingness of mind and ride percussion like

lyrically riding a unicorn, i don't know what the $#&@ you been on
put bars up like (Rick) Ross in uniform true to form do the darn song like
I'm proving I'll son em

from Queens to Halifax God Save ol' Liz yo Sheri Headley
from the back at my discretion, other rappers trying to see me
but they can't like cataracts, real class, Zamunda having mad giraffes

Jackson's bad but still no match when Murph get mad and grab a staff
That's Samuel not Michael and I always ride in manual
And channel life into my bars in hopes I'll gain a fan or two

right now myself included there's just three of us like cantaloop
as if I keep my ID secret like fools in the klan would do
when really son, my plan's to do it overboard like tanning booths

or goldie hawn and damn her shoe collection straight up flammable
the style I kick's refreshing to the tongue just like a can of brew
I'll make you laugh and drop a gem of truth as Lishuss apt to do

and no i'm not that crude you didn't listen when I answered you
i said the truth is plain is day it sticks out like a camel tooth