Peace to sensei,
Coming to you live through airwaves,
As I wack off to ******,
Going on my own personal crusade,
Breaking walls like a man made out of Kool-Aid,
Like Muhammad Ali my flow is like a butterfly,
A war torn zealot that delivers like a pizza guy,
That thinks of your girl while he cream-pies.
Hahaha
Going in like it’s D-Day,
Call it a Gink Raid,
Hit em with a AK,
Shoot em down easier than slippy,
Slice a ****** up like it’s child’s play,
Call me a real killer like Chucky,
Hear the sirens Blair,
Oh **** gotta find a getaway.
Faster than a red hot chilli pepper,
To the cops displeasure.
Going underground like I’m master splinter,
Relaxing, steaming hams like Skinner,
Until I come up with a new plan,
That is truly evil like Mr.Sinister.
That would make a metal man,
Like Victor Vaughn approve of her.

This is a Gink Raid,
Carpe Diem,
Seize the Day,
Where human nature is displayed.

This is a Gink Raid,
A death parade,
A unpinned grenade,
Where human nature is displayed.

Times ticking closer to Doomsday.
Everyone always acts tough till it’s judgement day.
Crimes picking up, got things going sideways.
Rick Grime surviving bundles of zombies.
Simon says we better run away.
Shame gambling doesn’t pay.
Never know what lies in bouquets.
Semi-automatic bullets dance like ballets.
Piercing through flesh of desired prey.
That fall gently like flowers on summers day.
Death, an embrace none can escape.
No time for breath, when faced with fate.
Can’t hit the breaks.  
When rates have high stakes.
It’s war time, where peace comes from hate.
That takes lives for humanities sake.
A foolish pride, that existed since we were primates.
A sacrifice of blood, for a slice of cake.
That hooked crooks like bait.
Adversity is something we create.
Internally; suffocating us like restraints.
That keeps us in a sheepish state.
That innately generates,
A division of race that isolates,
A segregation which discriminates,
That dictates which traits.
Are more dominantly quaint.
That got us repeating history that betrays.
For...

This is a Gink Raid,
Carpe Diem,
Seize the Day,
Where human nature is displayed.

This is a Gink Raid,
A death parade,
A unpinned grenade,
Where human nature is displayed.

These are the laws of the wild,
A corporate claw that defiles,
Heavens sacred isle,
Cursed to a birth,
Assigned soul sent to earth,
Where it’s all matter of survival.
And once we die, we’re returned to dirt.
But while some sulk in denial,
Others get to work.
Building foundations to gain perks.
Evolving to a state that reasserts.
A need to control other folks.
Into hierarchical jokes,
That turns hopes to a hoax.
Where freedoms are revoked.
And it would take different strokes,
To not just evoke but promote,
Voices that used to be chocked.(18)

To become a master,
Of your inner monster,
Fighting to not be censored,
And not being ****** as a cancer.
Needing to know when to strike the hammer.
For untamed anger,
Leads to disaster.
That tampers one’s honour.
Instead of fostering composure,
Your creating battlefields for soldiers.
To become a master,
One must use love to conquer,
I know it may seem bonkers,
But to prosper,
One must alter,
The very fibres,
Of society that cause people to suffer.
To be a master,
You must recognize you are stronger,
Than your oppressor,
Got to weather the storm,
Don’t conform to the pressure.
Beware of what appears to be nectar.
For it can actually be a poisoned fuelled sceptre.
Never let yourself believe that you’re lesser,
If you do you might as dress up like a jester,
That mocks the very sacrifices of ones ancestors.
And always remember,
What it takes to be a master.

Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Imitating vaudevillians,
Because originality has flattened,
Such simpletons,
More useless than pions,
Lacking the accuracy,
Of a destructo-disc thrown by Krillin.
Tacky ducks more quack than Daffy.
Quirky queens more dunce than Daphne.
The mystery is in the ink that separates,
The Shaggy’s from the prodigies.
Could stab a friend in the back,
For snacks like ******.
Not much of a strategy.
It’s like your trying to intentionally,
Upset a Wookie.
Maybe your just tone deaf,
Like Eminem referencing the dougie,
Or make dad jokes more horrific than Chucky.
Get it?
Because chucky is a horror movie?
Why aren’t you laughing?

Rap game is a glass ceiling,
Shucky ducky quack quack,
Lame ***** reeling,
Over oldies and throwbacks.
Ll cool j don’t call it a comeback,
Slavery of the masses,
Taking Prozac,
To combat malpractice,
Depression a felon inside and outside,
Laws becoming lawless and unbalanced,
Innocents committing suicide,
Because the powerful are careless,
These ******* should be embarrassed,
That their privileged ***,
Can fake smiles enough to win Emmy’s
Minds material madness.
Gotta mind your true enemy.
Instead of being consumed by fadness.
Losing ones humanity,
To become the next Ken or Barbie.
But you too bad and boujee,
A hollow shell stuck in comatose,
Consumed by the sea,
Set up to fall like dominos,
Thinking you free,
But can’t see,
As the crows grow,
Bundled in circles,
As your drowning,
In asbestos,
For every pro there are cons that lurk in the shadows.

What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

J Cole was right when he said,
There are no ******* role models,
Afterall as a kid I inbottled.
All my emotions,
Fighting an internal battle,
Not wanting to just go with the motions.
For that would just make me cattle,
To a collateral revulsion.
Betraying my morals for a castle.
That is made of glass and delusions.
Becoming ignorant to that fact that I’m broken.
Growing up watching,
Television shows of action heroes,
Thinking that was the solution.
For what it meant to be a man.
Yeah, I was...
Growing up watching mad men,
Treat women as a sort of exhibition,
An object or a trophy, to be winning.
With the main goal to get one ***** in,
As many women,
In order to be claiming,
The title of stud that is above all other men.
Good thing I was raised by my mom,
Who taught me that-that was the thinking of villains.
And not a true depiction,
Of what a true man should be.
But if that’s that the case,
Then tell me how a man should be?
How a man should be?

Cause right now I’m still wondering?
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
Do I fight in the war?
Enlist with Uncle Sam?  
What the **** do I gotta do to be a man?
Be a man!
What if my perspective of a man is prancing around in tights like I’m Peter Pan?
Tell me how the **** do I become a man?
Become a man!
Do I have to become buff, or start fighting bad guys like I’m superman?
Perhaps I’d know if I had a dad.
Had a dad.
****.

If I were gay,
Would that be okay?
If I were queer,
Would you treat me weird?
If I were Trans,
Would we still be friends?
Would I still be a man?
Or would I be seen as a problem?
Why do these norms,
Have to create storms?
Struggling with identity,
And the pressure to conform.
Pressure to conform.
Some days I wish I wasn’t born.
For I feel torn,
It’s like I’m at war
Stretched to limit,
With a whimper replacing a lions roar.
How man minutes?
Will it take to unlearn not to be a monster?
At least my father,
Taught me one good thing.
And that is not to be like him when I get older!
When I get older.
Perhaps that is the only answer.

For how the **** I become a man.
Become a man.
I create my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand.
Take a stand.
To be a man,
We need to speak up,
To showcase our emotions,
To listen and educate ourselves,
To understand the problem,
We need to address it.
This how the **** I become a man,
Become a man.
By creating my own destiny,
**** the patriarchy.
It’s time to take a stand!
Take a stand.
This how the ******* become a man!

Alright,
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I be on some dope ****.
Swimming in a pool full of roaches.
That way I don’t have to worry about lunches.
Web MD my diagnosis.
Losing touch of reality, got the psychosis.
Some think I’m precocious.
Bunch of snowflakes stooges.
Who have worse hair cuts than Brutus.
Imma hit em with a 450 splash, psicosis!
For this is where the juice is.
Yeah, I ain’t take no losses.
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
I just might be the wokest.
While others try to be racist,
Calling me Pocahontas.
Imma knock em down like I’m locksmith.
It’ll be like a mortal Kombat victory, completely Flawless.
To be honest,
That is why I avoid those who are toxic,
Who haven’t a conscious,
So, to me their quips are nonsense.
It’s simply quite atrocious,
Afterall, it probably stems from them being jealous.
So, why should I let it hinder my balance?
Or roll with the punches?
As far as I’m concerned,
Haters can **** my phallus.

Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s seems more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.

For my heart is like a piñata,
With my soul becoming as deserted as Nevada.
Downing down the bottle.
Smoking some marijuana.
In hopes for finding nirvana.
For right now, I feel more destroyed than Gomorrah and *****,
But perhaps that’s what I get for becoming a dragon,
Isolating and pushing away anyone,
Believing that I’m someone,
That deserves loving.
But to protect myself,
I end up starving.
For I’m Scared to heal what’s broken.
Got given opportunities, but instead of accepting what others were giving.
I went Trailing down a path of self destruction.
For the words of the past are still afflicting.
Got my mind believing the affliction of their poison.
Thinking I always have something to be proving.
Diving into the dens of lions,
Getting involved with vermin.
That ended with me in a prison.
However, my mind was in prison way before then.

Gotta get outta this negative mindset,
That got me wanting to try for the lotta,
Because it’s more realistic.
Yet ironically leaves me ending up as,
Just another statistic.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid,
And explore possibilities.
The destination doesn’t matter.
What’s fun is the mystery.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And dance like no one is watching.
Who cares what others think.
As long as you are having fun.
Your moment has just begun.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
And paint that blank canvas.
With a parade of colours.
That could cover all of Kansas.

It’s time to rip off the band-aid.
Take that leap of faith.
Don’t wait till some day.
For tomorrow could bring death.
So, go and do it.
Before you regret it.