City in the Stars

It feel like anything can happen, at the open mic, you snappin'

Started singin', now you rappin'

I remember when I was a young man, thinkin' that I can do anything I wanted

Homies gettin' blunted, I was writin' rhymes and hopin' that I stunted

Never confronted what I really wanted, a mama and a daddy

But prolly both would take, prolly never have me

Even though my mama got that check from government once a month

No wonder why I stunt, I made it out, I never doubt the reason

That I do it, I knew it, move through it, everything congruent

And why you think I gotta put this boy up on the track?

Because you gotta pay it back, matter of fact

The atoms in my upper back have shifted like a chiropractor

Give it back of the line, the rhyme and everything that I find

Every other day, I think about a life away from that, away from rap

I went to hell and made it back

I made it to heaven and my reality full of vitality

Had to bein' why they mad at me

Said it emphatically, rappin' dramatically, shinin' achromatically

Give it to 'em grammatically, rappin' like an automatic be

'Cause that's how the static be

Where I grew up, it had to be

Everybody mad at me 'cause I don't fit in they picture perfect rap category

'Cause I gave it to 'em pragmatically

The rest is erratically

Systematically givin' it to 'em pneumatically

While I'm tunin' new record grammatically

Shit is mathematically, undeniably and enigmatically

Audiomatically me, and won't never be, I know be the only one that ever did it

Like I done the track sixteen on The Incredible True Story

I run it and always will from afar

You gon' be a star (star), shootin' from afar

You gon' be ignited when they don't like who you are

I know who you can be, I know what your plan be

I know you understand me, and I know that you never wrong, yeah, you're never wrong

What you want? Like what you want?

Money burn fast as the sun

Hoes only last until it's gone

High fashion don't help fatten the starved

Compassion is

Lackin' in the masses, the rich is fastin'

While the lower class is clappin' for em

Pourin' to they pockets double tappin'

On they watches never stoppin', steady clockin' in to jobs

Only option is to rob, I let them rob me of my dream

That I believed could be achieved if he just gave me a break

To breathe, or is it too late for me?

The order of the Ultra 85