Correction Paroles The Rebirth par Sa-Roc

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Paroles

If I could be candid, sometimes I'm insecure, my bad
There's more on my agenda than securing my bag
Y'all say y'all love the real, but watch pretend in high-res
Different rappers, same regurgitated interests, I gag
I'm the future, call me Isaac Asimov, rap Octavia
Penning parables of prose, I might be hip-hop's savior
Took a pint of blood and tears to learn to love my shape
And I'm not trying to modify a damn feature but my behavior
From the cradle of the civilized to a gravе situation
Where a flag more privilеged than the enslaved of its nation
I made demos, I rock stages, now Roc stage demonstrations
With these semi-automatic multisyllabic quotations
I'm a far cry from my homestead, I'm a Starseed
Caught a love bug for these prayers like I'm Starski
Now I'm with a crew of rhyme slayers making bars bleed
Rivals trying to catch up, but they can't match my brain or car speed
Since the clouds departed, I just speak from my carotid
Pain a distant memory, the image sepia-ed and shrouded
That's from years of light work that made this medium cathartic
Ride these BPM's like choppers 'til my grief became melodic
Turned a negative to positive with these musical deposits
So y'all can gather my accounts and make a suitable composite
Of the person I aspire to be, peaceful and unbothered
With all my doubts and fears six feet deep and sleeping under sawdust
Exist out of the box with the elements and gases
While placing emphasis on intelligence and brashness
Devil run amuck while society is cashless
Alter the prescription on the frames of their glasses
Quick as a quitter will fold, some of what glitters is gold
Same story is old, getting left in the blistering cold
Broken souls get remold with little arbitration
Fortune favors the bold, as does incarceration
The art of manifestation mastered by ancient civilizations
Lies deep within the mind's refrigeration
A shift of the eye is ample indication
To re-release a mudslide of latent inspiration
The butler did it, end of conversation
In this Information Age, you don't know nathan but hatin'
From the beginning, in it to win it and still, he spitting
This fully written isn't a product of bullsh*tting

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