The quickest way to kill your future is by mourning the past A thought I often struggle to grasp “These are wallflower perks” she said to me, with a laugh Brow too high for such low contrast Lives so compact they fit neat in your pocket Wondering, if the other shoe is ever dropping What’s it mean, if your house, isn’t worth the haunting? Off into the quiet, lost out in the nothing Shed more tears in this year alone Then I ever felt I did, in the prior 31 For every person passed, there’s a torch to carry on That’s 6 I’ve amassed in the last 7 months More than just a hunch that I’m not done yet Not being negative, just realistic No preparing for a storm when it hits this quick We just take the closest shelter and hope for the best Knowledge of self, is a wealth undivided Because I Love me, I can Love anybody Because I Love me, I can Love anybody Because I Love ME People closeted with feelings, scared to show emotion Only bubbles to the surface when imbibing liquid potions Riding highs and lows is just a part of this life I wouldn’t ever take a pill that would deny me that right But if you’re in the same fight, and I see that it helps Who am I to judge the goods that you pick from the shelves Piloting these flesh cells, unique individuals Each with their own codes, goals and rituals Habitual line steppers, to random and kind measures Wearer of Coogi sweaters, to thug life tatt bearers Killagain gram getters, in school wasn’t top letter Alphabet boys, wanna tap, like a damn kegger Measure by measure, share my opinions like backwoods If you gotta explain it, could it really be that good? I should dumb it down, but my mind it won’t let me You can’t stop police brutality with a Pepsi The beat breaks, opens up, leaves the guts exposed It’s “Pomp & Circumstance” for the prim and proper prose Is that too eloquent? Let me give it to you slow Came to drop bars, like Boost Mobile phones Sending drones to your homes, goods ordered from the couch Why support the little guy? Who wants to leave the house? Way things are going now, killing human interactions Blank faces, staring at weapons of mass distraction Penny for your caption, a dime for your mind Standing in the phone booth, recalling the time But I lost all sense (cents), nobody’s on the line Been disconnected, hash tags are pound signs? The message underlying is the overall theme Never stop learning, knowledge, wisdom reigns supreme Sheep make sheep, not originality So believe in your mind, “thoughts become things”

One night in ’96, Pops was on his way home Had to swerve to avoid, hitting something in the road Jansport backpack, Black with Grey accents Multiple compartments and headphone access Looked brand new, just sitting in the street There was no one around and the bag was empty Picked it up, dust it off, threw it on the backseat When he got home that night, he gifted it to me In just a few days, I’d be starting 7 th Grade Heard the books are mad heavy, glad for the bag change The thing looks durable, built to last 8 pockets, 3 zippers and a Velcro flap Seemed up to the task, first day when class ended I thought “this backpack, gon last, ‘til I’m a Freshman” A Sophomore, a Junior, a Senior, a Graduate 2002, this is still just the start of it A cloth sack, carried on one’s back It goes over the shoulders and secured with two straps From hikers to musicians, can’t forget all the students The Army Infantry, graffiti writers inherent Side pockets on this beast, could hold a 40 each Found this out at 23, skating through these Flag streets Just one of many things, this pack can hold I could use it for vacation, or a casual stroll A black hole for pens, a couple Moleskines More than 20 Fifths, at least 50 grams Uncountable CDs, shirts and other merch Hell, I bet you once I even took it to church Not considered an accessory, but borderline necessity Just like a good friend, probably seen the worst and best of me Especially, the evenings, creeping into a bottle Still you’ve always had my back, with snacks and some water After 21 years, seen a lot of wear and tear Zippers won’t close, the velcro’s disappeared Guess retirement is near, got one last trip Walk to the trashcan, and I open the lid…

I am not easily offended Got dead drops with no intentions You know it’s risky business Traded in the beer goggles for a pair of whiskey lenses Suspension, disbelief The feeling of leaving reality The land never waves back Why the Ocean’s salty From the deepest of depths to the shallowest surfaces I’ve done a lot of searching, couldn’t tell you what my purpose is It’s not worthlessness, lacking urgency Let me lay-to-rest, beneath that old oak tree The memory of what once was Sometimes the man in the mirror, only person showing Love So I’m sure to show it back Cos a body’s no good, if the brain’s not intact 200k per year Medical Diagnosis If you have hallucinations Then it’s probably the CoCec (x2) I still rock cassettes My room stays a mess Trapped somewhere between ’95 and ‘06 Never paid for sex, at least not with money Emotional investments in real estate that’s sunny Got a bum knee, needing change People throw shade, while I sip Kool-Aid Not in a cult sense But spent a weekend off the grid To create piece of mind And lose cell reception The man’s dealt in and the hand’s no good I could hit, I could stay, either way’s a lose/lose Instead I choose to double down Dealer 7, I 11, guess my luck is turning ‘round

Every rhyme I write, a piece of my soul touches A muggle, turning scraps of paper into Horcruxes Sorry if I’m sluggish, I’ve got a bit of girth So the wait, I do appreciate, for what it’s worth What’s the word? He’s a nerd, he’s a geek Got some new comics, every day of the week In the streets call him Doughboy, delivering bread The time I wake up nowadays, the time I used to go to bed Fed up with alarms, early morning inconvenience But I’d be late without ‘em, So I guess I don’t really mean this Feeling fiendish, like when I purchased my first Creature board Used to push around this town, until my feet they got sore It’s not like that anymore, there’s no more parties in Chesh Nostalgia’s a dark cloud, that weighs heavy on the chest Blessed, by the healing value, of a wild youth And thankful everyday, for the shit I’ve been through So pour another one, here’s a toast to the memories We’ve been through rough waters, but they all calm eventually Lost once or twice, always found where I’m meant to be Never cage emotions, they’re the patches on my sleeve Be consistent or become nonexistent The best things in life don’t happen in an instant For instance, peep a Bob Ross painting Less than 30 minutes and it still looks amazing Pacing the house, idle hands and whatnot Building fronts change, but we know it’s the same spot Haven’t a forethought, or even a first one Witty lyricism, acting smart when I go dumb Let the rains come, bring a flood, let it wash away Hit the reset button, and I can start with a blank slate Start with a blank page, but end down that same road Sometimes I make adjustments as the story it unfolds I go for the gusto, sometimes I get gassed But I’m easily deflated, so I let that shit pass The past is just that, what I’m trying to learn An endless summer leaves, one hella sunburn

Insight, inside it’s light This life, this mic, it’s mine My shine, my soul, my glow it’s Unique, one-of-a kind Kind of, an over-thinker Drinking, two cups of wine Why not, step out for the evening It’s too nice to stay inside Feel so alive on a night like this Won’t question why we exist She grabbed me by the wrist Now we face to face, in a moonlight tryst What a life this is My prognosis? It’s D.I.Y. for life, shout out if you like FANG OVER FIST See the sound is Ill Mess Witta Boom Box voice So much more than that, so much more than rap For my homie Pat, I spits it noice No ice in my drink Take my Greenspot neat Some call him “Ol’ Fashion’d” Just another song I sing To the game I bring Cassettes, so fresh, they’re mint condition And if you thought I was sick Then I hope this tape confirms suspicion Not rags to riches Just rags to more rags Until it’s dust to dust And ash to ash Bang yo head, throw bows like a mosh pit Heard this beat, knew I had to hold it hostage High and fast, run this like an ostrich This Cocec, proceed with caution Come here often? Yea, I’m a local Man in the mirror, said it looked hopeful But I don’t trust him, sounded kinda forceful Wouldn’t take that, not a crumb or a morsel Used to feel remorseful, but it all changed Wouldn’t rove range, in an Es-ca-lade Not out for fortune, or the fame I just wanna make tunes that my friends will play They don’t seem to have a second, or the time of day Hey that’s o.k., I would do it anyway C.P.T. with the C.M.H. No MTV, fuck VMAs Changed nowadays, everything so backwards Life is a book, we’re just filling in the chapters Live for the moment, but prepare for after Nevermind, scratch that, life IS disaster Bring on the rapture, bring out your dead Bring your own bottle, we gon take it to the head Gas unleaded, but our drinking water isn’t Got friends online, not one to call or visit They just fidget like a spinner, but I’m gonna be the winner When I take your girl to dinner, then she’s swallowing my swimmers Take 2, let it simmer, Sundays? I’m a sinner Some ways a beginner, smoke haze in the winter Any room that I enter These kids get tough Talking like raw beef When they really veggie puffs

DV8: Now whether you is, or you ain’t knowing I’m shining, I’m glowing, my whole heart in my mind overtime that I’m flowing Yeah, because life is what the lesson be We taste all the ingredients, and tinker with the recipe It ain’t about the trends, or the money that you spend It’s about these memories with family and friends So wherever the road ends I’m going to make with it bumps and bruises, and scabs on my shins And a bunch of smiles, and grins I embrace the childish, wild style that’s within And perhaps the people don’t understand But that don’t make less of human, or less of a man It’s quite the contrary What is happiness without the dreams that aren’t scary What is the truth without deceit What is the meaning of these words I choose to put on this beat Prosodic: Loosen up a neck of Pendleton I'm temperamental when the window for some opportunity happens to shift I get the gist I guess I'll wander and long in what I've pondered of belonging instead of being casted as the jest A masochist behind the mask of a man Demanding a pander of rest I can only hope you never forget, Yes? Before I forfeit this Believe the morbid mess I've drowned in never killed the voices I've followed into abyss So what is left for Slim? This isn't Qui Gon Jin A shot of Jame outta keep me from thinking about stress I know it's just a quip With all the wholesome shit But I feel for the lonely when it's the only homeliness With the tunes of paying dues I know abuse accounts to all the claims you wish to never choose I've been on both ends Nothing is left to prove We all know this All we want is solidarity for when the cold hits You know it's true Je2RiT: Woke up, fresh as a zombie Wipe the blood from my eyes and begin reminiscing on all my wrongings Embarrassed, pick up whatever up off the floor and wear it, ain’t nobody else up in here tryna see my bare ass So many bottles, so many people, Don’t wanna stomp em, so i tip toe Movin across the room an I’m hoppin, slip on a condom, stub my big toe Dropped, Gave a random bitch the peoples elbow Im just glad this bag of cheetos and this girl just saved my tailbone Rollin body’s over just to crack open the door Snatch a pair of aviators, walk upto the store Bottled water, caffeine, acetaminophen Just give me my change bro, i don’t need another friend Reach in my back pocket- pull out someone elses ipod Clear the wax from the buds to hear a little 2Pac Skipped a couple tracks an heard a beat that was tight Bust a pen an pad up on the curb and got to write Tré Orona: Two steps and I spill my whiskey 3 shots for y'all that still here Headphones broke on the way in Why we all just want something real No, I won't find my back over there They kicked me out 86 their favorite number when you keep it brown and proud Yeah, yo let's keep it real God know my drunkass likes too start some shit Always on my Joe Pesci “Fuck your mother” Honestly, I hate it when I do this Ain't nothing to prove but am i just another labeled contradiction looking for some approval Aye, are you okay? Thanks for askin, yo I been away Off in my roots so recluse as the system bangs Spinnin that vinyl hell if I know bout this day today Ain't even check my phone won't let the matrix operate Don't need em accolades or plays in my space okay That's what I say when I'm down and I'd like some brain What do you expect from a blacked out mother fucker Trying to act out in this mother fucker Smallz: Raindrops in a kettle drum, sun full of smoke Always down to ride, even with a couple broken spokes Hang with folks, (who) listen to books and read music Looking for some clarity, in a world translucent Abusive, like that old Scrooge Ebeneezer Tullamore Dew and smoked salmon in the freezer Not a meter-feeder, but I got a pocket fulla change Netflix and chill? Well I’ve heard of Stranger Things Like “I’m still remaining celibate, irrelevant who’s selling it” We all become delicate, when trampled upon by elephants It’s evident, you ain’t worth the breath from my lungs Only ‘bout as troublesome, as a stick of bubblegum Son, you’re not Jadakiss, you’re more like Jaden Smith Force-feeding accapellas, that are always flavorless With the same cadences, no appreciation shown So I’ll recoup the Throne, while your coop gets flown (be gone)