Test, test.
All right we on?

I aint B-Rabbit. I need a gimmick but I don't have it.
Hope has it. And it won’t let me at it.
Feinding for it like a dope addict I broke baddest.
Since a kid I was told not to smoke faggots.

But I did still I do, have a cig what it do.
What it be, one for me, one for you.

Burn one down for the crew.
Burn down all the new.
Bring back the old in the sound for the food.
For the soul, for the sights in the mind.
That fall to deaf ears cuz the hype is blind.
So I write these rhymes to try and heighten minds of mine finding the peak but the heights a climb.

The kind that’ll test you
The kind that upsets you.
To find that your climb that you climbed you’ll never get to.

Unless you can handle the shit.
Then get up, and get out & make that mountain your bitch.


Make a run for it, run forest.
Think of what you done for it.
Any door that’s porous you should run toward it.

Never stop no.
Know that all is possible.
Except for when you have friends pretending that they for you.


I’ve had friends that are friends till the end but you’ll always have more friends that’ll tend to ignore you.

At least I do.
So I flew.
I flew, and I fly coops.
Away from the fakest of faces that I knew.
Like “By the by I be chilling by the bayou, with a Mai Thai high fiving several different models.”

Man fuck you!
I don’t give a shit about your life I got struggles.
I care about mines and no othas.

Cuz i’m tryna get heard and tryna get help.
I’m tryna get the word out and put on shelfs.
But just like everybody else is I’m all by myself.
And here I am being selfish with what I been dealt?

So who the fuck am I tell you what you can and cant do?
Damn I can’t choose.
Do I give a shit if you rappers look like idiots or is it just a symbol for the fans to put they hands up to jam & dance to.

Damn I can’t choose.
Damn I can’t choose.
My brain’s come up blank like an avalanche do.

Do I want people hearin’ what I really wanna say.
Or do I want people hearing what they really wanna play.

I don’t know.
If I did then I’d sell out shows.
Yeah I know, but I don’t wanna sell out though.

Cuz that’s what you do.
You do too.
Too much of this fuck a bitch, gun to hip doot doot.
That’s got these cats Coo Coo, that’s why these cats loot you.
Shoot 2 2’s from the gats out the roof do you see what you do & that the youth does what you do.

I hope so cuz we’re all a movement.
We can’t move men without someone losing.
That shit’s proven.

That shit’s proven.

That shit’s proven.
I’m not.
I’m sick of choosing what ya’ll wanna cop.

That shit’s proven.
I’m not.
I’m sick of choosing what ya’ll think is hot

How I write this, whether I get nice with, or offend friends with the pen or the mics just another o my devices, another way you might just.
Actually feel a track o mine deep & you like it.

“Test!”