And as I get stronger and stronger, its weak I feel,
A monstrous mountain I ask my peak, why kneel,
In need of more than sustenance, I seek my meal,
And as my lowest points, I'm nothing but deep valleys,
My sleep dallys, undefeated, hope you don't keep tallies,
And as my spirit grows mean, its hard to keep my nose clean,
Made of mental metal, I am such a well oiled machine,
A demon screamin', that in hell boiled a dream,
Its like, I'm at war with June, I have to battle my age,
But you mafuckers, no matter what won't rattle my cage,
I ride anger, gallop with fury, ready to saddle my rage,
Day and night, I wonder am I even praying right,
My straying sight, makes my gritting teeth, a weighing bite,
The slowly greying light, is, for now staying white,
The black drained from it, all color is gone and deceased,
All my letters are burned with the dawn end creased,
How did I get this bloody nose, or this black eye,
Should I inquire questions, or never ask why,
Was it the people over there, or people that pass by,
Who has done this, who (who,) who done this,
The thoughts on mind, knows my plots on rhyme,
Glutton for punishment, you know blood clots in time,
Its a jungle out there, and all the weaknesses are caught in vine,
All the sappy stories told over and over eventually rots in pine,
Stealing from you sorry MCs, threatening, I'm hardly wincing,
So if my fuckin bloody nose, and my muddy clothes,
Means I'm a man for the first time, for the worst crime,
I'll follow that winding trail until I'm under a hearse's bind,
The first time I fell, it was like connected gravel to spine,
Flash back after flashback, like I travel through time,
Been smitten on top, written non stop, I wrote hooks erased,
None were good enough, so I ran out of notebook space,
Is it true, hard exterior means you've had a softened spirits,
It probably is, I'm lost in loose leaf, just off in my lyrics,
Never lose my pride, but this race never soothes my stride,
With songs written, some minuscule, and some are serious
But I can't see the ribbon at the end, I have become delirious,
How did I get this bloody nose, or this black eye,
Should I inquire questions, or never ask why,
Was it the people over there, or people that pass by,
Who has done this, who (who,) who done this,
And as sweat beads, let seeds grow up to full potensial,
I use my frozen pen ink instead of my cold untensil,
I sold my pencil, just to try and hold my mental,
And keep it locked up, for all of eternality and beyond,
And as I write all night, its burning into me 'til I see dawn,
And when I see dawn, my pupils have small burn marks,
Let's hope my writers block you gave me, earns sparks,
And as I stair even farther away, on a mountian on Mars,
I try to number my defeated enemies, like countin' stars,
Anger toward them, slowly inside me, its amountin' bars,
Trying not to stair out the slowly fogging window's sills,
And again those pills, then my sin grows ill,
But when it shows still, tell me, so I can cover this shame,
Or so I can prove to you, I'm the lover of this game,
I'll give it the reddest rose, and I'll leave out the thorns,
If you ask if I'm devil's advocate, don't ask about the horns,
How did I get this bloody nose, or this black eye,
Should I inquire questions, or never ask why,
Was it the people over there, or people that pass by,
Who has done this, who (who,) who done this,
