I put alot of thought into this, i dont mean in the lyrics, i mean in the structure....here it is...

I believe that skill is more than somethin' you perceive, it depends on how its conceived//
But I know that emcee's sometimes become naive on what they write, what they've achieved//
We lay it down, we spit it, as the sayin' goes "we're our own worst critic"//
We know we just writ it, spat a couple lyrics, re-read the shit we done and then become so cynic//
We deserve props like locks, we go against the clock, drop hot shit like a sweatbox//
Cut~it like rocks, we 'Magic' like beanstalks, trapped in our own mind like a cell~block//
Its so frustratin' havin' ideas gyratin' like our motherfuckin' minds masterbating//
We jus' patiently waitin', for a chance, we ragin'//
Ourselves, we ratin', with our eyes dilating, envisioning pictures like a still~life painting//
Set straight~out, tushe, like swordsmen, thinkin' foriegn like nordsmen//while chords bend//
Paper thinkin' we set~out to kill them, but we straight killin' ourselves, blocked, stabbin' our pen//
All we do is disect our thought like a surgeon, do nothin' but cursin'//
Tryin' to erase our wasted thoughts with some fluid~detergent, until our rhymes become a burden//
Everyone expects so~much...like we supposed to have the upper~hand, but we got the under~hand//
Im still feelin' like im not meant, my birth was unplanned, shit, you aint me, i never expected you to understand....//

*Chorus*-singing like Eminem on 'Bully'//

Everyone thinks that im.....Saint-lee//
That im gonna blow and become...Wealth-ee//
But the truth is that im just not...Read-ee//
Cos im never given the chance to be...Me//

{2 Bar Break}

At first people thought that I was only a...Honk-ee//
That i would never amount to shit, nevermind an...Emcee//
But i did, and with success there comes friends and...Enemy-ees//
What the fuck you say, im my own critic, what you want from...Me?//

I condemn my friends at night, amen, this is deep, comin' from were my poetry stems//
I pick up the mic, spit nothin' but flem, ahem, all these people you down with, but you never knew 'em//
Your jus' another review, but your abouta break~through, ima teach people sumthin' bout you//
i got envy outside formin' a queue, people at home with pictures of me enciting violence like an african voodoo//
I remember kickin' it with friends over a six~pack, I miss that,//
I never covered my back~they were my boys, i never expected an attack//
But it seems that we all get rebellious and hit~out when we jelous//
"You know i'll allways stay true..." thats what they tell~us, but soon as the oppertunity arises they'll up and sell~us//
But now i got my own plan, im my own man//
Dont need no bag~man, cos i'll end up playin' hangman//
People lookin' in my direction, to see my complexion//
Expectin' a reaction, expectin' me too make an impression//
I had to much of this, there aint no me an' my outlaws...//
You aint ever gonna see me blow and sock~jaws, because.......//

*Chorus*

Its about people allways expecting something from you, like when you dont feel like spittin...and why there might not be a future for me as an MC cos the shit that im supposed to be...I might change it in places...but thats it...what you think?

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Knowledge Is King