addicted to this drug more damaging than crack.//
it's called bein' lyrically inclined, mind set, set to rap.//
mine is spent like cash, droppin' flow afta flow.//
never knowin' if I'm-a tap my resiv-oir.//
it's a constant war fought servin' battle afta battle.//
starvin' to be enlightened and create somethin' that matters.//
while other rappers rhymin' about bein gangstas.//
I'm say'n I'm jus a normal body raised by the ghettos.//
grow up wearin' torn sweaters, an' tattered jeans.//
scattered dreams masked by the need to be re-leased.//
instead this gift's got me ceized more like a cures that I'd rather live without.//
but I feel like I'm sick without it, like satans scouted me as a draft pick for bein' hell sent.//
just another crowd dick to be a shelf head.// (dick rydas, HMV top 10)
but hell this, is what I always wanted, a skill that would get me what I wanted.//
if I had of thought it would turn out like this I'd-a never started in the first place.. honest.//

__________________