| «Picasso once said there are no child prodigies in painting
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| There may be in music, but not in painting»
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| «How old were you when you started painting?»
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| «I was 13 when I started
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| I got inspired to start painting when I drew my first piece
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| And saw that God had given me a talent
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| So, umm I knew when God gives you a talent, you should use it»
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| Uh, no boundaries at all
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| I sketch, take ten steps, allow me to draw
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| My paintbrush dance on the canvas without a flaw
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| Big wolf live in a village made out of straw
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| I’m a known arson, fire marksmen
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| Flaming target
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| Disappear in the dark, I’m fly like Aladdin’s carpet
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| God willing, I’ma kill 'em
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| Smoke drifting out the chillum
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| Guts spilling, medical requests I’ma fill 'em
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| It’s the man you aren’t
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| Bang on pots and pans til the jam gets started
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| The paper’s riddled with little pellets, the past ??
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| Overflows over the limit, they can’t guard it
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| I step off the cliff and blast off into orbit (I'm outta here)
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| And spark like a torch, the money fallin' out the orifice
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| No curriculum, that’s par for the courses
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| Startin' the horses
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| Hand on the table right where the fork is
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| Yo, we go off when we go on to get started
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| Funny how I’m typing just a little bit further
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| Or is it farther, I never could decipher
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| Consider me an author, who wrote it at his highest
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| Games change, lanes change, same gang approaches
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| Watch the floor hit the lights out, avoid the roaches
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| Wipe the whole slate clean, that’s what I hear the most
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| The coast is clear from the clearest coast
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| A dreamer does well under the rays of the sun
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| In the city that we dwell, it’s like a ray from a gun
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| It’s like a beam from an ??, it’s like an after effect
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| So if they pull a strap it’s like a Jack in a deck
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| Out the box, out the crews it flocks
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| Emcees are jumpin' out shoes, let 'em keep the socks
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| I got heart, and I exercise
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| There’s no telling when I’ll ever settle
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| So set a time
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| I keep a gallery of art, a store’s full of the crates
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| I gotta art of masterpiece, DiVinci’s locked in the safe
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| I keep a place for the liquor on hold, take a shot of this
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| Shitty bottle while I could pose in an apocalypse
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| Mad cause I’m on my biz while they catchin' vapors
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| You’re better off pulling the tree, tryna stretch paper
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| I draw threats like Marvel to the sketch paper
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| Risk-taker, suplex tracks and no neck breaker
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| Digital art, graduated from analogue
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| I got teachers framing my catalogue in the campus hall
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| Everything I draw is on some raw-raw, cat is raw
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| Like that is all, numbing your grill like it was Ambesol
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| Now, where the aerosal (shh), paint a picture
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| Then turn the cameras on and brush in another adventure
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| Fly overseas and make skrilla from these written scriptures
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| Rolling with the Step Brothers, draw somethin', niggas
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| «And as he continues to knock masterpieces like these out in just an hour
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| He’ll soon be moving beyond this Northbrook art gallery
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| And on to bigger things
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| «It's finished»
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| «There's no education, no understanding of art history
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| Or of art movements, no intimidation
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| And here she is completely and utterly innocent
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| With an innocent eye, almost
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| Coming to a canvas»
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| «It's truly from inside»
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| «She's painting at a level that master’s don’t attain
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| For 30, 40, 50 years… and yet she’s 10» |