| Ste right up, take a ringside seat bro
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| At the Hip-Hop big top, midnight freak show
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| Where kids fiend rap dreams that seem majestic
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| Line up at the Zoltar machine to get Big
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| And walk with giants who shake up the system
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| But behind the carnival curtain seet he makeup magicians
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| Wake up and listen, hear what’s not for the public’s ears
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| Pinocchio poets played by profiting puppeteers
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| Talent sharks want blood, rappers hook them with the Gat Talk
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| See a full fashion show, just look at the catwalk
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| Corporate snaes, boardroom fellas
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| Clowns that rap about their wealth are the fortune tellers
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| From fire flow breathers, come and witness the illuminance
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| To one hit wonder disappearing industry illusionists
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| Ringleaders with whips, quick, the 15 minute fuse is lit
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| My poems paint movie script imagery that’s ludicrous
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| From Portland basements where the rapping is real
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| To sunset beat boxing in the African hills
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| I creep with a pack of dreamers who are deep in the mountain
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| The wildcat trampoolinists who are keeping you bouncing
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| Under the circus my thoughts design the sound effects
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| Jonathan Cash who Walks The Line without net
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| Before judging me know that I hustle, I work
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| If I sold to someone you knowl try judging them first
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| It’s like that till the day I lie under the dirt
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| I speak truth and shouldn’t have to rhyme once in a verse
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| The proof is hidden right under my words
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| But to hear it you got to buy some of merch
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| Come get it, we go getters, this cold business
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| Is the reason me and my homies don’t kick it and have grown distant
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| Record labels and gold diggers, there’s no difference
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| They’re both bitches only out for their own interests
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| I’m just another guy that’s rapping
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| To justify my action while you run it by your captain
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| What has this even come to
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| You see the end result but don’t see the hoops you feel the need to jump through
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| Don’t let my speech corrupt you
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| Ignore the wrong and see the right this is leading up to
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| This ship’s been sunk in an industry of distate and mistrust
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| I rip stage till your ribcage lifts up
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| Trying to blow but the grenade pins stuck
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| Unrightfully so I’m a young likeness of dope
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| To the millions in the scene who try to build it
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| But look like little children bewildered by the king
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| I turn my back to them but I’m guiltess
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| How long I got to milk this before I gain fulfilment of the dream
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| Look Look |