Hold power like Meech,
Pops, told me to never be leech,
Young heads, i tried to reach,
But they too, caught up in the beat,
And not, watching the words that speak,
Poison into the soul, cleanse the drought, now its time to re grow,
Iike cornfields,
Suckas gotta take yields,
As make like pressure and build,
Rock with words, you can feel,
To ya braincells i heal,
No wack verses, for the thrill,
I spin it real,
Avoid strawberry thots,
Forgive me not,
Got me rushin, slowly brewing a concussion,
From these rhymes bustin',
Over the booth,
Most pick fakes over truth,
Attract hate like Trump,
Hang the Messiah, folks saying they holy, but only preaching to the choir,
God is on the street,
Let me repeat, latter day saints,
Aint really got the speech,
Say it in ya head, til the thoughts bled,
We at the cornerstone, of a bloodstone, hail fire,
Modern day truth tellers, sold as lair,
Stuck in the heavenly quicksand, no need for a back up band,
I stand,
Alone, wrestle forty days to forty nights,
Now i feel, closer to the sunlight,
Images appeared, i never seen before,
Conscious playing tricks,
I hear a knock at the door,
Is just my inner self, introducing me to more,
Let knowledge weigh supreme,
This aint a dream, just a glowin soul at a higher risin',
