Booger Stew

I wanna hear ya flows not excuses, stop picking ya nose
Leave them alone, let the boogers grow
And show ya skills on a product
Soon enough ya whole nose will erupt
Blood will spill cause ya picked to much
Mc's could bring out some lush stuff
However when I ask there's always a but
I've almost finished however
I completed one track but I wanna make it better
Will ya ever proceed on to a new stage, or platform
Torn between a world of dissatisfaction and perfection
Value things in there time and step with progression
The lesson is yet to be learnt
Ya feel ya worked a long day
Not that hard but have earnt the right to pick a crusty
Ya want ya tracks to sound a little more busty
Ballsy, but what ever you do they'll always seem rusty
Trust me you've caught the bug of self criticism
No longer will you be giving
Instead living a life in the booga stew

With such little time in our life
It seems to be racing
While we bring tracks with impact by the stacks
Ya wasting the time on a few far and wide
If only you applied a side of you willing to move forth
On a course to produce at a rapid rate, migrating north
While you reside at booger airport
The career getting cut short
Thought ya shit would sound fresh
But we detect the rust
Just the crust on my toast
It's almost like ya career is a hoax
Folks are left at a stand still
Hoping to land at the top of the hill
Chill with those cheap thrills
Promoting, yet not devoting
Without a product
Even still ya hoping to gain mass recognition
With ya narrow mind
Ya probably still believe a wife belongs in the kitchen
I can't understand how ya not itching to make a release
Ya need to be the beast cease picking a piece of snot
Stop that rot
Or in turn you must flock from the site of hip hop
When Opportunity knocks, take it, chase it, face it
Don't waste it on boogers
And no bullshit buts MC's nowadays just run a muck
Wild like Plucka Duck
Don't give a fuck, but luck is about to exit
Next it will be too late
A champion who could of been great
But fate let him procrastinate
Masturbate over half made tracks
Sorry you were just too slack
You need to attack like Mars
Reach for the stars, instead you drifted afar

There's a difference
Between a slight delay and procrastination
Just like there's a difference
Between a beat down and an assassination
How long does the grazin really take
Only one word create
How about..make, a lot's at stake if ya wait for too long
I've known dudes who spend 6 months on one single song
Never moving along
I know ya want to sound right, but that's just wrong
Ya get the gong, like I was Red Simons, quit ryhmin
Ya relying on rhymin which is dyin out the ass
Hit the flask find a new task
Perhaps at last some ground will be covered
6 o'clock shadow feelin rugged
Cause I worked hard on my shit, while you said fuck it
Kicked ya own bucket in this hip hop industry
And ya know it's in me
Bitterly trying to get rid of those nose pickers
Not much else makes me sicker
I lay tracks down quicker and much thicker than the next
Flex my text and fulfill my quests
While ya spend ten years trying to find your best
Forgetting time and effort is all part of of progress
May I suggest ya value things for there moment in time
Appreciate the lines in the rhymes
For the thoughts that were going through ya mind
At that particular time, and I'm out line for line