The Admiral’s Lounge (Interlude)

Honesty and consciousness
Constantly be dropping hits
One can easily become lost in this vast metropolis
I stay on top of shit, but that's a feat to achieve
Considering the fact I'm surrounded by peeps to appease
But I'm keeping my knees up, lost, no wonder my head
Is a second home for every monster under my bed
It's like I'm rewriting the language, nothing ever handed
Imagination running under a tundra of blankets
The pantomimes could never lay a hand on mine, stand in line
Disneyland rappers, go the fuck back to Anaheim
These other rappers my clones, acting fake as rhinestones
Rhymes visionary, no blindfold, eyes closed
Skating on you like a quarter-pipe when I destroy the mic
These whores are likely going home feeling slightly sore at night
Igniting Northern Lights, high longer than foreign flights
More insightful than Nostradamus when I'm recording right
More than white and black when I'm writing raps
Davideo the type to snatch the mic and laugh, then I'm yelling "sike" and dashing
Strike the match, used to be a youngin' but the kid's grown
Get home, bed rocking, fire up the flint, stoned
Whether you're in your sixth month or you're six feet
This gift we call existence is a mystery
I'm trying to live free, never have to answer to
Any authority figure trying to lay my plans to ruin
Pursuing lavish life with grass by the ounce and cash in accounts
So welcome to the Admiral's Lounge, uh