Passion so incredible, power to punch down Devils
I lay down script all day, Slay Goliath with my brain
Drain his blood out, flourish like the ghost of Stephen Crane
This is a red badge of courage.
Life is parallel to Hell, but I must maintain
Take this record and pause.
I just took a hit so Nasty like Nas.
My New York state of mind, Illmatic,
I push hip hop Law,
Each line brushed becomes clause,
In a new school of thought. And I wanna spit it hot.
Nas blew big in 93, I was 6 years old, I started penning poetry.
Not to be mediocrity, a Cajun trading wagon,
Out with monotony, ought to be, breathing dungeon dragon.
To be caging your rhythm with my cadence,
Juggling bundles of your disgruntle.
Barred jargon chars your ears with barging ox patience,
Bend the banter, with my candor, experiences, appearances,
And scars charged, taking my heart 30 seconds away from Mars.
Realigning the stars when I stare out my backyard,
And as I’m gazing at the blazing canvas,
An enraging comet manages to streak,
Its protracting beam across the dark painting,
Colored like the tainting of this world,
That forever rearranges you brazen.
It’s always painful,
But who thought it might not be,
A paned beautiful view,
Looking out of a crooking window,
Saying I wanna map the rest of my tomorrow’s,
As the best I’ve ever had.