My life's like's a little toybox-- the time keeps tickin on the old mans clock,
and I just sit here and I play till the end of my days, the same game that we used to play--


and things have changed since the past-- the way that we used to have--
I feel bad with the way that I missed it man,
And I wish, I'd stay a kid forever-

playing wit my little toybox-- making everything better,

But-- Wishes are an acid dream,

ask the fiend-- who said you didn't have to leave,
And you-- lose childhood--, I don't that I should,
live inside the world as a drone wit his eyes hooked,


I could be the man wit the paint brush--
spraying on the canvas, imagine all the %#@! that I could make up,

I could bust you out of all the places where you lay stuck--
Take you where you parents never argue and they don't fuss,


I could dream a dream that you would never have to wake from,
sleep and watch the minutes on the clock as I replace them,
Pockets of reality, you never wanna save some,

dive irrationality, and swim until you fake one,

You feel it building in you ever single year now,

waiting for the moment when the walls are gonna tear down,
then you gonna swing until these mother$#&@ers scared now,
climb up in the ring with a pipe crack him to the damn GROUND,


I'm a little childish, speaking with a mild wit,
filed into files, all the while why they smile sick, If I smirk along with em the revile it,

Telling me to dial off my style like it's violence,

wish I was the higher-ist, growing ups a virus

killing all your innocence, until you all admire it,
turning everybody into mathematics ty-a-rants,
feeding on the industry's they take over, pirates


If I had a dream, well then how could I acquire it,
scratching into paper till it's bleeding out papyrus,

Half the ink I'm thinking's bleeding into all the quietness
trying not to scream, but my soul, it requires it


member when they asked you and you said you'd be a fireman,
saving people burning now there's gassing up the fire pit,
You must've retired it, burned up all the environment,

seen it in your raged, and processed it in silence,

Look at where you are now,

everything you want is for the taking if your willing to give up what you could think out,
trade in an imagination for a little accolade,
pay yourself a wage, tell em that you got it made,


It's hard arguing with martyrs on the sidelines,
bleeding while the other people die, while they can all whine,

people tell me music is a rigid authenticity,
it's only rock, classical, blues, jazz, and symphony,


like every single song we had to work for never happened,
I gotta stop myself when all they $#&@ing do is trash it,
People gonna hate Zaid, that's just how the world is,

you don't gotta give a %#@! what other people thinks big,

people gonna hate you, you can never please all,

don't you get so $#&@ing angry, it was never your fault,
nothings universal, and that's what I guess what's personal,
That people want to see you burn, just to get a workthrough,


Say I'm lacking in my lyrics, never checking on my spirits,
individually, distanced consecrated into physics,

Feed the narrative to every cynic with a keyboard,
Looking smart George, you can really frame a flame war,


No stake in it, but a fake mission to remain pissing over every syllable I say then we play chicken,
on the main tripping till we fall and our brakes finish and we crash murdering us both while you still %#@!ting,


I remained sickened,
the world views talent as hope and non-existence as much as it hates wisdom,
One day they'll have the lot of us, decay on monitors,
while monica plays electronica from her harmonica,


And one day I'ma look, wondering how all rap, made it past whatever the world cast in lap, into wrath,
thunder in a glass, sundered through reflections in a mirror, drinking talent on tap,

I started as an angry kid, and now my hearts way madder than my anger is,
And every single verse that I pour this in, doesn't stop my reality to form again,