5'10" with poor vision

Lord give him everything

He still a born sinner

No J. Cole, saw some crazy s**t

Now he's molded like Play-Doh

And they know

The road that he took is so painful

Karma's gonna hit him like 8-fold

He can run all he wants but he still ain't Usain Bolt

Just a plain folk

Ain't tryna stay broke

I know he made jokes back then,

Then the rap game chose him

His cardio has made him weak

Lately he's, contemplating

Should he take his leave 

Or maybe even face the heat 

And chase his dreams

No more back to the oven

He's rapping for something

Imaginin' buckets

And stacking the money

Not naturally lucky

Works hard for himself

So nobody can touch him

Except for his mother

When drunk out in public

She would just punch him

Square in the mouth,

Her knuckles connect

And crumple his chest

Blood was the best way to end the discussion

He couldn't prepare for what's coming next

Damn.

More reclusive and secluded than included

Deep in ruins, steady movin'

Proving to the masses

They can't match his future

World on his shoulders

Who knew it was hard to move it

Back is archin, skin is bruisin

Isolation over students

You can sense the storm is brewin

In the form of all his music

No excuses for my absence

Been practicing my lines

Like I'm actin in the movies

I'm gradually improving

I'm askin you to view this track as a moving unit

Kick back, relax, and fasten

Cus' my passion's what I'm doing

Danny must be dreaming

At least I know it's lucid

Your transparency is foolish

And ya acts I see right through it

You see the light that I give off but can't detail my movements

I'm translucent

Rubix Cube with no solution, it's confusing

I see you rackin your medulla,

Oblongata, say I ain't got it

You'll be pushin up some tulips

And the truth is...