Niche

[Sample: Woman 1 and Woman 2]
I don't know what to do, I haven't found anything
Well, I would look at that as a sign
A bad sign
No, you just have to find your niche
Niche?
Yes, what you're good at
What you're good at
What you're good at
What you're good at
What you're good at

[Intro: Sapient]
Big ups to Jesus

[Verse 1: Sapient]
I was walking on the cold ground, the seventh time again today
But the only steps I take are to find a better way to dedicate
And find that there's more for me, last priority money
The wealthy are still mortal, see, I live on top of drum beats
Cause something loves me with a demeanor so infectious
Loyal and still treacherous, more than flesh and bone
Yet it is my mate
The reason that all of my pencils break
It's the reason my beats break
The reason I live my life in a dream-state
I can tell the difference when a human isn't realistic
I don't make songs to fit in, I just need something to do before I die
I apologize, but I won't let you inside
It defeats the purpose of me rapping tight like zip ties

[Verse 2: Ethic]
I capitalize, casting my lives, all of them in front of you
So when you see the different mes that make this man
That's something to diagram, I expand on otherwise hard to find
Extinguished human emotions when I rhyme
I'm never not no one, no one feels exactly this way
At a show I know no one hangs on every word that I say
I end this existence and whether or not you believe it
It's just another one of those things that never stops me from sleeping
I get deep when I need it and shallow when I'm drinking
I can't help feeling conceited while I question what I'm thinking
I'm just your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill, regular genius
A conflicted individual that expresses as he pleases

[Verse 3: Sapient]
I can't find anything else
I'm blind and I need help
And I wouldn't mind if you spoke with certainty instead of urgency
I've searched the seven seas for integrity
It does not exist now, so I settle for whatever's next to me
I mean, geez, can't somebody explain the mission
I visited to rehabilitate my heart from commitment incisions
And didn't think that women could make me feel this lost
But just add another notch to my totem pole of writer's block
It's the static in my brain that prevents me from dancing in the rain
Plus, I might slip and damage my frame
Like when it was broken, but it wasn't the sticks and stones I felt
It was the damaging words striking kids below the belt

[Verse 4: Ethic]
I rock headphones alone, prone to travel through time zones
Homegrown icon that writes on this lifelong grindstone
While minds roam past and time don't last
I find methods of immortality frozen in my graff
While my grasp on reality deteriorates
Nothing ever truly relates but what I make
I make music for those that are addicted to The Simpsons
I make music for you if you like this white kid with rhythm
I am an auction block, exhaustion rots
I'm often lost where life starts and rapping stops
A laughing stock, the passion drops
As I spit at you pitiful little massive flocks