from Introvert Party, released March 2, 2016
This is not instant gratification
when I’m eradicating oversaturation of your wack infatuation.
Without exaggerating you had a sad duration and surely been mistaken.
And do I have to start explaining when I crack a statement?
‘Cause these pack rats chatter facts, vexing, debating
because I’m not flexing, inflating
an image of a hundred doller biller.
Dead in the middle of white suburbs, butthurt mic killer
will never fit the bill of a body builder.
I swish liquor, start sipping swiggers,
come off as a bitter spitter, skinny hipster,
acting like it’s always winter.
I’m tryna grip the feeling right outta my inner.
I hop onto a cloud and I can see a bigger picture.

I’m over me. I’m over you.
All over this beat. I know it too.
Over me and above it all.
High as hell but not about to fall.
Stone cold is me. Colder than you.
Bout to overspeak. If only you knew that I can’t get right.

I’m over shitty internet rappers stealing my traffic
off some ripoff boom bap shit that they think is magic
and I hit ‘em with a bit of abra kadabra faster
than rapidash gallops on the racetrack.
In fact, just face the facts I’m better than you
and on your best day, to me you’re still forgettable.
I’m the fucking pacifist gladiator.
Known to pass a fat fist back up in the air
Adamant to haters. Anaphora ain’t my steez.
What half you bastards saying makes me have to dry heave.
The other half get shackled to indifference,
collapsing cause you lack a knack for being different,
fishing for a frisk to show us that you’re packing
crap to feed the kids, insisting that your pistons
pumping. Your thumbprints done no construction.
And I don’t need no introduction cause I’m over me.