The Statement ft. Miami Beat Wave Lyrics

I used to be the rapper who don't fit in with the rest but wait

I'm still the rapper who don't fit in with the rest

Maybe its because I'm focused on the shit that I address

Instead of using a mother fucking gimmick to impress

Influenced when i heard an Eminem cassette

How he uses every word and he mixes and connects

All these syllables he kills it bro with wits and intellect

So it hit my interest and became a little bit obsessed

That was in back in 99 when when I was 12

I was cryin' out for help all these errors and the terror

Of just staring in this mirror got me quite beside myself

But life would take it easy on me when I put my mic inside adele

And now the flows iMac and i honed my craft

And won't relax until I know that every showed is packed

One day they'll notice that my soul will be all over rap

My music will go full circle put on the coldest act

But half of your sheep couldn't grasp what I speak

And the fact is that this track wouldn't last you a week

So do that math you rappers ain't a fraction of me

Cuz once I get in my mode I'll prove you're average emcees nah mean

Divide and conquer til I know that I'm the dopest

I'm here to get on your nerves that's multiple sclerosis

And I got the illest flow that no ones noticed

Maybe the day I'm pushing flowers will be the day that I'm that I'm holding all my roses

It just dwelled on me they telling me I'll never top ten

Fallacies they fail to see failing is barely an option

You'll rarely see someone rare as me a rarity god sent

While you're hearing me you're literally inheriting prophet

But apparently the punch soft celebrity boxing

You can ch-ch-check the melody like Eric B Rakim

When you're hearing me use your words carefully and sparingly

And please don't not compare me to garbage where were we

I've been hungry for this shit but I guess I can't find a plate

Told you that I'm warming up these are slightly micro waves

Bars multis punches every rhyme that I create

And the flow is just the mother fucking icing on the cake

But it's my own asphalt that I ain't make it and blow

Cuz I stopped riding for a minute and was chasing the dope

And now I'm trying to find a lane but life taking its toll

And so much traffic i just can't find the right way to go

I see my exit coming up should I up and just go towards it

Cuz everything else went south and I'm so over it

I'm closer than I thought so fuck it I'll go for it

What good is drive when you got nothing to chauffeur it

When I write rhymes I feel like I'm spitting to myself

Cuz they don't listen they thinking that I'm like everybody else

Guess I'll never get discovered like the Indian in the cupboard

I'll just be the minority that's sitting in a shelf

I can tell you bout the time that I was trapping on the streets

And how I stopped and started rapping on these beats but you don't listen

I can tell you bout bout the years of cold showers burning candles for hours

A house with no power but you won't listen

Or the bucket under the roof catching the raindrops

And scuffing all of my shoes not having the same socks

I can tell you bout the landlords trippin and evictions

I can even tell you bout the drug addictions but you won't listen