Why, are expectations so high?
My arms, I stretch, but I can't reach
or it's in my grasp, but as
I lose my grip like the flying trapeze
Now the sky's blackening,
Butter- flies rip apart my stomach
Knowing that no matter what
You're gonna hark, gripe,
and that's a hard Vicodin to swallow
So I scrap these, as pressure increases,
That the first of the Mathers disc set
Always in search of the verse
Will this step just be another
To tarnish whatever the legacy,
love or respect, I've garnered?
The rhyme has to be perfect,
'Til I go sit in the car, listen,
Like, "This shit is garbage"
Still I feel no different regardless
Kids look to me like as a God,
it's a facade and it's exhaustive
And I try to not listen to nonsense
But if you bitches are trying to
strip me of my confidence
Nas, Rakim, Pac, Big, James Todd Smith,
It's true, I'm a Rubik's, a beautiful mess
At times juvenile, yes, I goof and I jest
not ruin your expectations
And meet 'em, but first, the
Is he gonna shout or curse out
There was a time I had the world by the balls,
But the only one who's looking down
on me that matters now's Deshaun
Am I lucky to be around this long?
Begs the question, though
Especially after the methadone
As yesterday fades and the Dresden
home is burnt to the ground
And it's time to wash out the blonde
I'm still poking my head out from behind
And everyone who has doubt, remind
Now take your best rhyme, outdo it,
now do it a thousand times
Now let 'em tell ya the world no longer cares
or gives a fuck about your rhymes
And as I grow outta sight, outta mind,
ever let this mic go without a fight
But when I do fall from these heights,
But I'll decide if it's my final