Introduction. It's Street Light touching beats. Might be something. Be hype. be nothing. Doesn't matter I'm justice. Knee high to the public. Puppets bumpin in the Cutlass. While reciting weak punches.

Brainwashed dummies and the money is the bucket. Plus the sponge is what they running over redundant production. Loving all the cussing while they rubbing on the clutch and that's the highway to hell so you better buckle up, then.


No enemies finna be finishing this race. Feeling me? Wait. They're befriending me. Fake. Lyrically can't stand in the way or look in the face. It's Hilary Swank. Trained to swing. Or kill and replace. Really? It's hate.


Let me start with something easy. I aint religious. Just indifferent to non-believing. Time to perceive time as more than just a simple clock breathing. Lock me in a box, I bet you're still not as free, see.

Even if you freeze me. The truth I'm speaking on, bet the people gon start writing freedom songs put em on repeat until your speakers blown, throwing bricks kicking doors in on those people's homes. I mean it's never me alone.


I got issues with the music they say listen to. So you drive a Bentley .who cares? So pitiful. Nothing but a ploy to destroy and condition you to chase those things like yo dreams are forgettable.


Talk about gunplay like they've become invincible. Claim they in the streets, so I'm guessing they're invisible. Cuz we aint ever seen em. But even on principle, they wouldn't pull a trigger cuz these rappers scared of prison too. . . truth.

I used to wanna live that life, though. Jordan or Jackson, as long as I was Michael when it came to rapping. I could trade my soul. Til I started reading passages from the Bible.


And I can tell you now, that's why they don't like me. Cuz I just do it well and keep hell beneath my Nike's. Speak truth. Leave the booth. Then it's back to writing. Telling these young women to aim higher than "wifey".


Like, what does that even mean? Free pass to get past you and in yo jeans. .yea, you get the title so does every other teen. The sad part is, you don't even get a ring!!




I'm bout done with this beat, though. In the description is my facebook link, yo. Cuz it's gon take a lot more than this track to cure em of the idiot disease, so. Watch for the sequel. .


Rhapsodist on the beat, though!