doubtful readiness

[Verse 1: Departure]
It's the metaphysical five-mic'er
Popularizer of raw styles, spirit inside of cyphers
Down a bottle of Budweiser, still spit finer than a winery
Saliva hit your naked lids farther than your eyes can see
Steez is capital when you think about it
The imitators roleplay as painters and clown the township, ain't you proud of it?
'Cause it was sure some dirty bastards out there fathering that fucking style
Writing lame rhymes on acetate, manager's on speed dial
They couldn't bare to handle bars in a cypher space
Even with the right to bare arms, rappers get a taste of the youth
And these fakes blabbering with a baby tooth
It's 15 minutes of fame and 1 throne in the kissing booth
And everyone is human regardless of what you piss into
You can choose between the hit-or-miss or the blissful tunes
Get a taste of these hominy grits
Or stand and be a nerd while you philosophically analyze some girl's tits, bitch

[Chorus: Departure]
I doubt that you're ready for this prophesy, give you some divine inspiration
No cuts or scratches, the mic is clean-shaven
No [scratch], the mic is clean shaven (the mic is clean shaven, the mic is clean shaven)