Rapper’s co-signing a Politician is still a Politician
For every label they wasn’t able to place on me
They feed us nothing but left-overs; I stepped over with stilts and rebottled the same Milk you once wept over
So I’m confused when these niggas call me & stress over

Will it snap? Or am I strong enough to pass on these bitches I reply through DM & double-tap on
Every night I wailed
Expect to sink if you ever think they’ll extend an Olive Branch
It started well I got a message from this Rapper in my Inbox.
Every mistake that I ever made was a growth point
I might as well if I can write it well
In other words, I was built for this shit
Cause regardless of Race, Gender, Religion
[Verse 1: Locksmith]
And sacrificed what we had built for my personal goals
I responded with gratitude & respect
Write songs that you’d never hear
Suffocated by Self-Hatred; I externally thawed
The same Stoic & hopeless look you look upon is looked and pawned off by defeatists since we were Fetus’
I tried to get back on the track I lagged on, but whether in that storm proved to be the straw on the Camel’s back that we stacked on
You can’t expect to please everybody
But I failed to commit; The surface was cold
[Verse: 2 Locksmith]
I can patronize or honestly speak about it
For every second they second guessed & embraced phony

Dropped some bars, disappeared
Then he attacking my character in his text
Fuck it
If you go againt the grain they accuse you of not being humble
Pretend help from these niggas became a common stance
The finger or the blame on another person that’s striving to
The candidates just can’t negate my suspicions
They beggin’ for my advice, but I’m focused on my success forward
I had to look at myself distinct
Surprised a few, but The System here is not sufficient
The whole structure and foundation has crumbled
Deeply woven, they chose to switch it as they stone me
When he didn’t get the answer he wanted, that’s when it turned stale
Fuck it Yeah…
Now tack on the fact that I’m tryin’ to complete this album
Niggas pitch to him every stitch is a bitch to unthread
My nigga, this is me
Am I supposed to cover my ears? Turn a blind eye when noone can find why the fine line has lost most its buffer
I know
Then my girl got in her ear, told me "Get on your job"
My Mothers’ gone
Expect nothing & no one will work as hard as you do
Should I play it subtle? Not a chance
Instead of complainin’ I started workin’ while most would suffer
If I have to lie I’d rather leave than keep the shroud up
Shit they should’ve corrected before they started
For 4 years I did nothing at all
I understand the bruise that you take when fall & don’t point
More focused with details while they more concerned with volume
Want others to ride, but have no idea where you drivin’ to
They ain’t satisfied til they see you bleed from your body
And stopped chasin’ thirsty Journalist who secretly wanna be bigger than the Artists they supposed to cover
How then do you explain my resilience to spit?
I can slide the scale & tip it my way
And the problem isn’t what most discovered