[Verse 1]
I run the human race, take a swim in the gene pool
These fools are empty-headed but never bother to refuel
Leave jewels like buried treasure locked in each and every measure
Beyond listening pleasure transforming your forever
Overstand as my over-animated overture is painted
Underground oversaturated
Emcees are overanxious overrated
They're undereducated. I just can't take it
Pour my soul on blank pages to be underappreciated
Mars Ill we cut like a caesarian through the stylus
My words split you in half now you have an identity crisis
I get more claps at open mikes than venereal disease
I love the culture but I always leave the record stores displeased
Mental plains get flooded and cold shoulders still freeze
My trail of tears floods rivers that empty into the sea
Emcees are high off the power takes a man to stay sober
That's peace to Steven Powers 'cause my art is getting over
[Verse 2]
I've jumped the gun punched the clock caught flack kicked the habit
Rolled the dice bit the bullet grabbed at straws from the gamut
Heard the call hit the road bought the farm smelled the coffee
Dropped the ball beat the odds drove you mad said I'm sorry
Seen grown men drown in terrain they believed to be shallow
Seen martyrs from John the Baptist down to Amadou Diallo
Hallowed ground desecrated through wine, women and song
Seen it all on television when I choose to turn it on
Build bridges just to get my point across this troubled water
Then lie awake at night and wonder why I even bother
Then cry, "forgive me father" its become so hard to call it
Don't want to sell my soul in three easy to make monthly installments
Flood the editor with letters 'til I stop the press
Then set the stage on fire leaving you hot to death
I caught your breath when i reached in your chest to touch your heart
While the rest just want to tear the club apart
[Verse 3]
Deeper than a burial ground, live in stereo now/
Street credible, compose thoughts until my penmanship's illegible/
It's incredible, the fire in which you burn remains indelible/
And it's like that. Wanna battle? Then show me where the mic's at/
I'll make one makeshift so we can take it to the streets/
Release recorded streams of thought to hold you over 'til we meet/
My sound surrounds the underground takes control and dictates the space/
My light shines so i illuminate your mixtape/
On Full Plates I shape to form and fashion over beatbreaks/
Create to devestate all my brethren up in deepspace/
Where we don't claim to be stars, but we keep comets for keepsakes/
And gain a couple thousand new fans on every street dat