Not quite good Enough.
"It's a clash of opinions that makes you ask what a win is -
Clouded with ranks taught how to say thanks for the pittance..."
They judge me, begrudge me and say it's A minus,
Not quite what they're willing to put in, in spite of what mine is...
It's lines fit, but rhymes sit without attention,
Minor mention to those who think my rhyme design's not invention...
I'm flattered the egos flare when people declare what I write
As something to like when the club is closed
Like sun is rose to the night...
I'm smiling in moments though I'm still trying to show this,
Flow that's going word to word from high to lowest...
Tell me I'm second-rate,
...I'm not up to par...
You're more for the less you hate
...But that's what you are...
Eighteen and Nineteen just spent your first time being alone...
Now you know it all so you'll show me which dormitory hall's your home
I'm callin' your bullshit, it's fall and you're full of it,
School just started and you're fucking retarded if you're cool with it...
The rule is wit, it's not how smart you seem ---
When you write preconceived thoughts and take shots cuz you're a teen...
The world is your oyster, And you've got a girl that you love, right?
So what's light when dark keeps you parallel parked in lust's sight...
Getting fucked 's like being a slut's life -
Soon you'll realize that nobody's sealed eyes sees what's right...
Tell me I'm second-rate,
...I'm not up to par...
You're more for the less you hate
...But that's what you are...
It's a club that refuses other's work that confuses
Their sense of being "Vets" and votes against upsets
So they don't lose this...
Sense of security they're bent on assurin' me,
My pieces are Hall of Fame but I should crawl in shame
To Legends' currency..
I feel like it matters, but I rap for the feeling...
I do this to prove this is actually the real thing...
But I'm told it's flawed,
So I reroll this odd numbered dice and
Wonder twice if I'm even owed the awe...
Tell me I'm second-rate,
...I'm not up to par...
You're more for the less you hate
...But that's what you are...
(break, music stops)
The power of words isn't written, it's read...
The power of verses isn't spitten, or said,
It's heard it's absurd to think that we talk,
We draw from unconscious long lists that we've sought...
We're bought, we're sold, we're taught, we're told
We think we're original but that's the subliminal mold...