Verse:
A skill to set in stone
That I’m better at whatever Such as mastering a flow
I flirt with the beauty of beats but fuck em' with no affection though
Natural metronome I proceed to kill it then kill it slow

People don’t know half of it, mic's I’m never passing it
So there’s no other choice but to go raw, never compassionate
Those opposing claim they know me when I got my glass tinted
Don’t bother falling for it like a preach of an evangelist

I do what I have to do, so I half ass religion
Fuck life, harassing it, never planned to be trapped in it
Never sugar coat it on never put a little fashion in it
Dreaming 'bout the skill I suggest that you stop imaginin'

I stay hungry, but I’m lyrically well-fed
And a lot claim they’re hard and barely compare to stale bread
Consider this a diss to those thinking they can spit on
A track but in fact I got something that’ll get you shit on

I owe it all for those who received me in their hands
I say fuck you to those who never gave me a chance
I say peace to those who doubted me and threw me in the past
Now I’m closer to my dream can’t wait to be grabbing that ass

Like ay ma, you should know I was born to be hated on
They tried to hold me down but I still spit with these braces on
And I’ll keep stepping, an autopsy’s never stopping me
I can hear out those out of fear screaming like stop it please

Yet talk down with an understatement
Debating the fact I might actually make it
Whatever that means, I’m pretty sure they're intimidated
But I can give a slightest motherfuck; you can hate me

I spit rhymes like spit shine, too short said to get mine
So I got life by the head, and forced it to suck my d*ck right
We can agree the world’s a curse word
Good guys finish last, so catch me cacking earth from the back with the worst herd, it’s HNL