Dat Rock of his dreams,
Peakin through distant clouds
Of struggle and doubt;
Calloused feet shoutin
From soles worn-out
At the bottom;
Climbin crowded stairs
To deaf ears
At the top.

Stories screamin to be told
Like sirens on the crime-side.
Memories of old resurrected
In mindsight.
Fingers typin rhymes through dark nights.
Moon shinin bright
On doors closed,
Never seen.
Ground floors  reekin stardust,
Clever memes.
Here only giants dare,
Starin at the ground
Through mirrors too small
To capture them all.

Gonna need a visionary,
A see-faring guide
To blast a path
Up these charts.

Gonna need a missionary
A God-fearin ride-or-die
To take the leap of faith;
To chase a dream
Through distant clouds
Of struggle and doubt;
To find a spot on Dat Rock

Where destiny awaits...

Capture the ride.
Watch him glide,
Free-stylin
From Chi-Town
To Platinums.

Don't blink.

You've got to see this.

AYO
~ P