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u walk around posted down, looking at all them flowers.
u write shit here, u posted near what we call a stranger power.
so many roses here and there. where im at? its the garden.
its not eden's but it can represent the same type of margen.
its worth guarden. its just a place to bring me a happy thought.
its all i got besides this game of my rap and street hip hop.
take a walk with me, plant ur feet firmly on the dew wet grass.
watch the sun reflect off the water like light hitting crystals glass.
there aint no past, present, or future, here we stuck in ripples.
like the ripples of time, everything here is like a scribble...
off my page when im writing its almost like i wrote this picture.
does that mean im an artist? or just the author of this scripture...
who knows... the bigger question is can u see the true answer?
i write fantasy and make them sicker then my cancer.
in the garden... its peace-full... take a seat and watch it grow.
the seconds here are hours, and our hours moving kind of slow.
its like a show u never seen... something right out of the T.V.
where everybody cool, and everbody moves free...
ive seen it in my dreams... so ill bring my dreams to a seldom seen.
i wrote the garden, so the garden now writting me...
i laugh at this crap, its like i was born to write rap.
i write more fantasy then i dream its because im good at that.
its all i know, and the garden aint no broken home.
its just a patch of grass a couple trees, some flowers and a broken dome.
im all alone in the garden. so take a second to hear my plee.
sit down and grab a chair... u can share this moment with me.....

some fantasy for all of ya'll.... yea ima bring my fantasy back into this game fools...
want some fantasy collabs? hook me up.. im down for that...