Hello! I've got a paper mache vision, of black and blue lines beaten with some revision. Proficient as possible, pistons unpausable, an engine unstoppable, been living that rock and roll life as I balance the chalice with talents. This college rules ride and these college ruled lines. So excuse my excuse on the abuse of time, I've been using these hours to stay true to 'Outliers'. But I jumped off the trail, explored the nature of the board, frequencies and frequently ragers. Venting the stress between two jobs and school, it's that debit and credit grind and night life booze. But I'm back in the tracks and attacking the booth. Missed this since I got a taste to spit truth. The business of synth riffs, hat hits, pads too, my band on stage in six dollar plaid suits. [HOOK] Rad. I am Mt. St. Helens like "Damn, you finally ready to explode Kellan?" Tell em' "Yeah, I think it's time I let loose. I think it's time I got free with the records groove" like Boom. I make it so volcanic and soon people will be calling me a manic but Why? It's cuz I make it magmatic. I rock with molten flow now you all in a panic. Got some body bagged eyes from sleep starvation. Tortured with the guilt of lacking inspiration. So many days spent content-less in pages, so many pointless songs, so many pens wasted. Thinking "You better face it, you ain't a writer, dog, you've writing so much shit, pretending what your not." But now the naysayers dead, and the page slayer's reborn. I'm a renaissance man with poems ready to record. Folklore? Ha, not even in my repertoire. The only fiction in my diction's writing the core. Strike a chord and a match with some gasoline. I'm 'bout to blow up each track and beef it up with some creatine. So thank you for your patience. I hope that you were waiting. I hope that you were pacing the floor anticipating The invasion of phrases, cadences, 808 bases laced with some traces of ragin' to leave you speechless and brainless. Yah. [HOOK] x2

Quarter before one with a quarter in the blunt, a dime left to grind, and a penny for my thoughts. A dollar in the bank, working that minimum wage, at least I'm getting paid, but at a restaurant I hate. I digress into faceless, fame-less, entertainers, but I'm a breakaway a big break so I'm famous. The type of fame that to any girl I can say "Hey Miss, you know who I am, let's get naked and steal some bases." Ha! Kind of clowning at the same time kind of not. Sometimes I write pure flow and it'll make your brain rot. No politics and not a lot of logic or knowledge, bitch Just similar syllables, would you think I'm a college kid? But don't think. Step back and let it be. Hypnotic hip-hop with the need to breathe deep. Let your muscles sink away like the tide on the beach, close your eyes and drift asleep when I count of to three. It goes 1, 2 ,3. Ghosts, memories, nostalgia and some history, misery and ecstasy, bitches, lovers, friends and fiends. Ok, I've highlights in my life I've had times sublime, kinds of highs real, surreal from wine and pipes. But nevermind, cuz I've got some skeletons too. Buried in my closet, rotten in their eye sockets from what they've viewed in bruised inner skins of limbs and guns my soul and stuff, heart and blood, lub, dub, pumping out some love. Wait. Oh wait, I mean hate: the devils' favorite drink. Cocktail of being broke, broken hearted and lack of faith. A rack and an eighth pays the tax on my pain I keep saying that I'm waiting for a girl who can rock my world, who doesn't like to quarrel, and keeps my brow un-furrowed. But it looks like, I'm quite alone tonight I surmised my night would be this girl that I like, but she's a bitch, so is life, that's that bullet I bite..right? Squares bleed into poetry on this graph paper, as arithmetic rhythms just slither through the meter. Unorthodox hip-hop styles that you savor, this caper's for the haters who say I'm a name taker. This rapper's kind of Quaker so no war for me, homie, I'll respond with diss with quick logic, no fists to be thrown. I've grown out of tantrums so if need be I'll flow from my dome, wreck them with vernacular gold. It's so cold. So raw, and so fresh sounds like sound salmon just caught form the Northwest. Sounds like the best mess of syllables and synths, and since you heard this you got the evidence. I'm just doing what moves me, excuse me, if your bothered how my mother taught me how to live. Can't say it verbatim but I'm pretty sure she said, "Flip the bird to the critics, son, live your life instead." Like 1, 2 ,3.

I had my back pack, packed stash, zig zags, bagged hash, that grass snagged by the door man at the dance, damn. I mean it was the first week of college, back in George Orwell's 84, on campo's watch list. I guess I was sinning cause they sent me to the clinic, I guess I was ripping my degree up with knives in the kitchen, I guess it was addicting, at least I was given the power to quit it! [wait, wait, really?] But I'm just bullshitting. Months flew by and my care was high up in the air, I was above their line of sight when they glared. Should have stared them straight in the eye and said "Would you spare the lecture about the nectar in my grape flavored flare?" You got a creed, I respect that, and I love you. But you ain't above me, and me? I ain't above you. Set the dove loose and let peace fly over hamilton, I swear I'm not just babbling so change the way you handle it. [HOOK] So tonight put your fingers to the sky Chuck the deuces to the world, cuz it's time to say bye Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can They bringing you down saying "You don't have a chance." Try to put in me in my place? Man, I got other plans. Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can Why? Cuz I can [You know what else really pisses me off?] And people be like, "Why is this kid rapping? I mean, his beat is cool, but his verse is kind of lacking. Where's the hash tag rhymes? Why is he backpacking? All I want to hear about is bitches, drugs, and bill stacking!" But, what if I told you I'm just being myself, bleeding inkwells, scripting to tell, not sell. What if I gel with original comps? I got a keyboard, a guitar, some mics, a bass to drop. Don't chop that much, screwing with hip-hop and rock. Influenced by Blink, and FOB, K. Dot, Geo and Sabz. Caught between genres, I ain't generic. These haters busting out their thread and needle when I tear it. Hating cuz I'm painting and this art is shaking cages changing the same arrangements that we've been hearing for ages. So I'mma set it loose, start mutating, and make it rad. And when you ask why I'mma say cuz I can. [HOOK] Not a greaser rebel who revels without a cause. My fly leather jacket's bagging and tagging my boss. Instructions ain't how I function at all. Lego sets told me shacks but I made Taj Mahals. Take a pop beat then grab it by the throat, go throw in the dirt, footrest for my throne. I coax clever metaphors that no one's thought of before to own the instrumental so your mental's never bored. I can and I plan to be the man, my hype man, and my band are the best of the land. And my dad and my fans are the reason I stand a titan who holds mic stands like a champ. I never really rolled to Rosecrans in a van, I never held a chopper for means of killing man. But I still got the skills who call for a little bragging, You taught me that Seattle, sorry I've been Gonzagan. [HOOK] x2

[K-Rad] She loves life cuz she writes the rules, frequently flipping birds to all the preps in school. She don't need a Northface or a Juicy coat, she ain't dripping in makeup on the cover of Vogue. She's kind of cool, kind of hated and outspoken. The other girls all think she must be broken, think's she broke and a Spokie from Spokane, so the boys won't admit they all think she's smokin'. Doing life realer than Decartes I think therefor I am braver than Braveheart. Stop photoshop rich bitch digital fake art, her photos are on film developed at the Kmart. And they poke fun cuz they don't know what she does And they soak sun hoping the boys will see 'em, stick out like an orange eye sore can't ignore the soar thumb. Tryna be the one looking like everyone? Dumb. I guess she's too cool for school. [HOOK] Break free All these walkways keep stalking me So crazy I'mma gonna be how I'm meant to be. Too cool for school and too cool for you, rewriting the rules and got nothing to lose so. Break Free, I'mma gonna be how I'm meant to be. [Matty V] [HOOK] [K-Rad] He got threads but they hanging off his jeans, and they hanging off his waist cuz he got his belt free. Tryna look clean cut but the razor ain't easy, his neck's looking red and it's patched with TP. He ain't sleezy, but there's no guaranteeing he'll be buying some Nike's when he's paid on the 15th. He'll settle with the kicks he got when he was 15, He'll settle with the kicks he got for like 15. Walking like Gucci, man you should see him, I ain't never seen swag like that since the mirror, and he's artsy like the Fuher but ain't into genocide 'less you mean killing beats in his spare time. And he's leading like De Vinci, painting a new scene, rocking mismatched socks under shoes he's been creasing. But you don't question someone like an emporer, Say he was walking around naked he'd look flyer than Ye. So he don't material to show that he's paid, the grease on his shirt shows he works every day, his attire is brave so he gets all the asses. Clothes from Costco, and did I mention the glasses? Yah. [Hook]

[K-Rad] I got a wretched perspective but it's a blessing , you betcha bottom buck and breaking beats because of blind as bat perception. Ears got jealous of the sun, I stared at when I was young, so they grew larger than life, then heard how to drop it dumb-oh. [CGT] [Nomad] I come from East to West on yet another Nomadic Quest Sent by K-Rad, king of the court, just to be yalls' jester To please the peeps with a style of hybridity - Spittin' rivers of fluidity with CGT an Nicky P. [Nicky P] Got a rhythm to bounce to and a bass line with some funk Check the rhyme and check yourself, yo, this jams the Dump And your feeling like your arms, your legs, your hips are flying away Trust that feeling, lose control, get it girl, you're A OK [CGT] [K-Rad] These beautiful syllables make we un-fuck-with-able, and my wit is gold so I'm unforgettable. Kill 'em when I'm spitting cold, microphone's an icicle, abdominal in the snow, man, this Yeti's ready go. [BRIDGE] I'mma bout to dump my brain out, brain out. Cranium breakdown, breakdown. I'mma bout to dump my brain out, brain out. Cranium. Ok now, make it loud. [Nomad] Jay walking, walking across the street with a J in my pocket. I'm walking to the moon. Down from Spokane, where things get broken into, Like a horse stepping into new shoes, I crush him up - I produce that new glue. [CGT] [K-Rad] Scoring this life while I'm scoring on the trite maggots or mites that write rotten, repetitive Well I'm fresher than the sweater found in Cosby's closet. My hook's schooling you like it's hook's on phonics, you got it? [Nicky P] And I'm feeling like a man on a mission Got some friends, some drink, and some smoke, and some people to listen Gonna bend these bars, like I'm escaping from prison Cause with rhymes like these, there's no asking for permission, c'mon! [CGT] [Bridge] [Nicky P] I guess I laugh so I don't stress out Bop my head so I don't black out Body and soul got me feelin gooood, Cascadia bitch gonna turn it up loud Hear my sound, hear my lyrics, Keep shit clear cause it's our song Critique analyze, I don't fear it Cause it's stuck in your head all damn day long [Nomad] I beat off... to the beats that are off. Creation of elation, I burn the verse like a molotov Yeah, I know, I rock that funky alabaster But I'm spittin' hurricanes out, I am a natural disaster.

I scribble so fast my pen's like a katana, cutting up the beef I serve like working at benihana. Pages bleeding black cuz my inside are open, my guts out on the page, it's my style of coping. Moping with poetry, go ahead, call me a bitch, call me any politically incorrect term you prick. Shit, I'm guilty of it too, I'm only human, still want to further humanity but sometimes play it stupid. Serious and furious, funny and loud. Bob Saget's real stand-up on the set of Full House Bruised like a banana bust still funny to slip on. "You've been a drunk mess, Kellan, cuz you've been getting your flip on." Behind bars like I'm too young to get in, so some nights I spend at home just writing some rhythms. But fidget my fingers with no pen and no pad, at those times I wonder why that I even have hands. Got glasses like Erkle but I'm still a cool cat, fuck that, I'm kind of clumsy like "did I do that?" Fresh clothes? Forget it Don't have the best etiquette Eccentric on a good day but usually the head of dicks. Wrong side of the bed again I'm so dehydrated. Handover's a no brainer but why the fuck am I naked? Oh, that's right, sangria, last night was two shades: First black, then saw the light--can't believe I woke today. So, [Hook] Who am I? I'm an introverted guy. K-Rad's just a name that let's me hide from the shy. Who am I? I'm anxiety on the rise. Smart and crazy, the hyphen links both sides. So, who am I? I'm an introverted guy. K-Rad's just a name that let's me hide from the shy. Who am I? I'm a dude with nerd eyes. Smart and crazy, the hyphen links both sides. God, I'm bored in class, sound like a spoiled brat, good thing these student loans go to writing my raps. Hand in my term paper, hey, at least I did it. Last night's rough draft but that ain't where my grit is. Find me in the kitchen mixing music from scratch, but even when I finish usually it's thrown in the trash. That's the catch. Everything ain't good enough. Gordon Ramsay's in my head and he won't just shut the fuck up. Another nightmare that I'm late to get to work, then the alarm goes off and I realize reality's much worse. Gotta get my morning perk or else I'm pretty useless, addicted to those beans so I don't get self-abusing. Addicted to caffeine, gotta love them stimulants. Gotta love them cigarettes when I'm too drunk for the ambulance. God is a spliff on the back porch of my house, seven minute conversations with whoever's around. That's who I am, how I exist, got a problem with it? Turn off my shit, and go listen to Hieroglyphics. Get some insight if my thoughts on life are pretty boring despite that chorus in 'Oh! She Said' you're adoring. Once I start touring my problems will come with At least they'll disappear while in front of an audience. Remember to bring a poncho, I'm pretty messy when I spit. I'm Kellan Faker-Boyle, don't sleep on the hyphen. Cuz, [HOOK]

Confidence is a funny little thing. It used to be big 'til this bitch riddled me. Silly ol' me, reading between the winks, thinking I know what she thinks as she sinks her teeth into my pink. Spitting venom like I'm spitting ink. Hello? Poison control do supply shrinks? Hell no? Ok bye. I guess I'll just lie in bed waiting to die. Need to get some shut eye, my eyes are getting red Got sheep to count cuz it's gone over my head, worry in bed. Tore me to shreds. It's this sort of torment's my butter and bread, and once again I read too much into it. Is she really this cold or just Inuit? Last week she grabbed thighs and loved to giggle, this week she acts shy but rubs her nipples. So, [HOOK[ I can't get out of my head, I've got her under my skin. My veins are crawling with ticks. Imaginary but it's still kind of scary. Hellucinating these facts. She's acid she's like five tabs. I'm frying, soon to go mad. But I'm still waiting. I'm still waiting. Last weekend was a mess. Weak in the knees for some sex, sneaking a freak in a tight black dress, fishnets on legs of your best friends' ex. And I guess I could blame the alcohol, and I could blame her for grabbing on my balls, and I could tell my friend, look him in the eyes, apologize, but it'd do nothing at all. "Geez Rad, didn't you hear? Bros before hoes. Egad, your ego decided to forgo that when you twist off the fifths top and zipped off your pants!" Ok, ok, I'm sorry Callin' her up to say "It's over" as my penis is bawling it prays that next time I fade it turns off my brain and what's made is another mistake I'm afraid. [HOOK]

I'm euphoria I'm a warrior I'm aurora borealis, yeah I'm glorious. But if I'm boring ya, with all these stories of me, myself, and I then I'll tell you 'bout Gloria. Before she, uh, lost it I guess, she was a rich ass girl who never had much sex, wearing a white dress, Sundays were the best. Graduating now, but still chained to the desk, so that night she took off the bullet proof vest, took some shots just to meet some friends. She learned how booze was a means to an end, learned how to get with the dude whippin' a Benz. Hot boxed with a shock top lickin' the vodka off a cock and gettin' painted like Bob Ross. Ga-ga, bad romance in the back of a hot rod. I call that a hangover, god damn. [HOOK] The clean, the nourished, the lucky who flourish, Cherubs turn nervous in the dark. Too good for too long and wanting to be wrong, and restless, wide eyed for the guest list. [HOOK] Mouth dry like an ash tray, sun rays wake her up to colors bathed in gray. Procrastinate another job application, keeps her resume down in her mom's basement. Two years ago she flunked her first quarter, Greek life was the life, got all the drugs for her. College without knowledge, too good to be true, lived in a fantasy picking magic mushrooms, and soon her glasses weren't for whiteboards. Sparked her reds with her specs just like a fly lord, like a savage who's adage was 'IDGAF', well I think that's fine if it's said between laughs, but Gloria was adoring the pouring of rain, whoring her name as the queen of rage. Coming from a family holy and blessed, look how far you've came since smoking that resin. [HOOK] x2 1, 2 steps out of that cave 3, 4, just to get a little taste 5, 6, "damn, what have I missed" 7, 8, the cherub experiments. 1, 2 steps out of that cave 3, 4, just to get a little taste 5, 6, "damn, what have I missed" 7, 8, the cherub experiments. 1, too many times on the floor, 3, 4, the war to explore, 5, 6 letters on the guest list, 7, 8, just to feel she exists. 1, too many times on the floor, 3, 4, the war to explore, 5, 6 letters on the guest list, 7, 8, just to feel she exists. Gloria never OD'd from the codeine, from the coke or by the means of amphetamines, but she traded her dreams for nights of idle pleasures, faded to the scene where the now is much better. The feathered line between the slope and the slip, when you're numb you don't know you've lost your grip. Coming down off the cliff and she'll never reach the summit, when you learn the experience but never learn from it. [HOOK] The clean, the nourished, Gloria's graduation night. Naive and ready to die, head first to the sky. Reckless wide eyed cherubs.

Ya, when I pass through, ever get the feeling everyone is watching you? Can't hear much, tunes turned up. Ear buds are hugging me, loving me as I strut bumping cuts. Wave hello, say the words. Maybe nod 'what's up', but the truth is I don't give enough, not even a single fuck. Maybe introverted like I murdered a social occurrence, maybe only fervent of some pertinent persons. Ya. I'm cursed, can't read me. I'm cursive, the pen's bleeding. Unapproachable like you smoked a bowl, like mutilated muted is your goal. Shy, quiet, rhyme in silence. Goin down as a pen, and I'm a pilot, and I'm kind of in my mind kind of hidin'. You say "KFB, F that. You're a funny punk, you know that's a fact. You're like Seinfeld, what's up with that? You ain't depressed, you just overreact." Well, maybe that's true. Maybe chemicals in my soul are filled with coal, growing old fast. You a whipper snap, yellin' at kids to get off my grass that I pack into snaps or a spliff that I pass to the left, wait a sec that's still me. Couldn't be. I thought my friends were here but that was just the beat. I thought my friends were here but that was just the beat. [HOOK] So look me in the eyes, and tell me "surpise, in fact, you're alive. in fact you never died, that was a lie. Get out of the pit cuz it's time to rise." So grab my hands and pull time to make some gold I've written a verse cold, enriching my mind with this shit makes me whole, makes me complete and whole. And people won't admit that their clinical cuz we all know that people are hella critical. Gonna look you in the eyes and call you cynical, "Just get over it, you'll never reach your pinnacle. Cheer up, Bro! Stop being so pitiful. If nothing's wrong at all why you acting invisible?" What if I told you this is umbilical? Hear my syllables: imbalanced chemicals. Not as crazy as Slim, not criminal. Not overreaction, don't need Benadryl, just time to chill and kick it atypical. Put the beat on loop, cyclical. Get whimsical with the quill is how I deal. If you need a pill that's fine when it's replacing the knife. Maybe get physical, hop on the elliptical, maybe go to church, if you like being biblical. If you need advice, analytical ain't the way to go if you're trapped inside of that citadel, trapped inside your mind dwelling on the times that you missed the boat. Why your life sucks, getting empirical. Add up your bad times, now you're getting statistical. Falling in the pit and it's subliminal. Lash out to your friends, now you're getting inimical. Thinking the hope's gone and it's unequivocal, asking God "why me? why do you ridicule?" It's a riddle for most so we're all very quizzical, know you're not alone though we all individuals. Let the people know this shit ain't minimal, call bullshit if they sayin' that it's mythical. And try your hardest to fight back, believe me, I know that it's difficult. [HOOK] x2

I am a sinner who's probably gonna sin again Lord forgive me, Lord forgive me things I don't understand Sometimes I need to be alone Bitch don't kill my vibe, bitch don't kill my vibe I can feel your energy from two planets away Now there's a party at my pad but I'm posted in my room, with just the right mix in with right amount of booze. And I'll try to do the cover justice and start busting out lines, better trust in my pen, it's got it's own mind. But fuck invisible binds, I'm only tied to my vibe. So this my life, as a scribe, ain't no need to check the rhyme, got my tribe to back me on stage killing back beats. Been known to freestyle but right now I'm not in the backseat. I'm steering, cursing, road rage, swerving off the road the deep dead in so mom's worrying. I can't blame her though, she know's no one has a map. Was lost some time ago at an age when I started to rap. Was saying "Fuck a job," I wanted an agent but the fact is 50K in debt I'm at a loss to pay them back, shit. Long as I'm not a domesticated fat cat, I can wear my whiskers how I want, mohawk mane just to match. Drum breaks on lunch breaks, write for hours on a punch card. Clock into the rhythms and tick-tock to the next bar. This Bic talks encrypted, deciphered I'm depicted a suburb spittin', smiling figure, beneath the mask I grimace. Give it up if you feel this way, and there ain't no need to shame. Shape up, let's circle up, and cipher till we're saved. Let's converse about paths we've walked in converse with socks like polka dots, I'm talkin' holes in souls we've rocked. Said we got voids we bridge with lovers and voids we fill with vices, but my favorite voids you can't avoid and learn to live life with. You can grip the scythe how death holds it tight, but I'll be damned to hell if you ever kill my vibe. Singin, [HOOK] I am a sinner who's probably gonna sin again Lord forgive me, Lord forgive me things I don't understand Sometimes I need to be alone Bitch don't kill my vibe, bitch don't kill my vibe I can feel your energy from two planets away I got my drink, I got my music I would share it but today I'm yelling Bitch don't kill my vibe, bitch don't kill my vibe Bitch don't kill my vibe, bitch don't kill my vibe Wrote a dozen verses to this tryna' be someone else, might be the hardest thing to only be yourself. Trying to find a voice that stills the air as it echos, a tongue that's never tied to the fear of being novel. Now ain't that ironic when you judge it on a cover? Go flip through these pages like books assigned to you for summer, but I flipped it full 180 like the mix I did of cudder's, and I flipped it on it's head like 69 from you mother. Still K R D, whoops for the got the A and - well no I'm not perfect but I'm complete with the A-. Can't all touch like Midas but I can work like a miner, dig in my soul, scrap some gold, get my fill till I'm full. Rinse and repeat every season till my fingers be bleeding. Take a break at the solstice and like the breeze I start breathing. Be immersed in Springs, Summers, Winters, till I fall, but like the Autumn leaves it's just a break and naturally beautiful. No matter the forces Mother Nature quakes at me, and no crack big enough to swallow 88 piano keys. No matter the grains Father Time is droppin' quick, ain't enough sand in the Sahara to ever dry up my wit. If it don't get published, if people don't love it, you can shove it, I'm above it, give a fuck if they fuckin' with it. Already learned that my school ain't got a lot of heads, but that doesn't taint the love I paint from, colors infrared just to measure my heat, so if you can't see, instead you need to read the words from the specs, and savor poetry put on paper--how I introspect, and inspect what a life looks like without regret. Don't kill my vibe. [HOOK]

My windshield's seen a lot of shit, meanwhile I haven't cuz I've barely cleaned it. Let's see, shift into reverse to remember teen kids pre spliffs, post bong rips. Sophomore, 16, handed from dad, to sis, to me, assisting in speed with pistons breaking sweats. Didn't pay for gas yet, take a blunt cruise, to be be blunt with you this cruise's to get booze on the island I grew back in highschool. Broin' out int he car cuz there's nothing to do. Playing tunes with the EQ maxing out the bass, roll into campus, make everyone scrunch face. Ok, gawk and awe in the parking lot while I park in my spot ya'll start to talk, like "Oh my god, becky, look at what he's revving. Evergreen license plate look at what he's repping" [HOOK] My car's a hiding spot for getting high in parking lots. My car's so McFly, Delorean take me back in time. Under shades of pine it's a shade of black, I'mma improvise, how I started to rap. She said "It wreaks of dope." Please don't take away the car mom, I swear I don't smoke. Pop in cassettes with the wire hangin' out, iPod, my best friend, bumping Del hella loud. It's a prerequisite if you wanna get picked up in this whip that you dig jams I kick. Ditch fifth period, get a fifth, I'm serious. Zip to the park, throw the disc and cheers to this. Raise your glasses to skippin' classes, gettin' asses, hopin' senior year-you passed it. Driving drunk home, that was hella whack man. It was the ego on another upperclassman. Stop by the church to cipher for a bit, you pack the bowl, beat box, and I'll spit. Hot box this bitch till the smoke is way too thick, till I can't see shit. Quick! Where is the Bic? Lost like guitar picks, I think I dropped it between the seat and the console, we called it the abyss in [HOOK] Photo album on wheels, every mile's a story. Nostalgic's how I feel but I'll try not to be corny. Got CDs still in it, still spinnin' from friends who were burnin' 'em, haven't heard from them in a while, man. Next time I go home I'll have them pile in, start whilin', laugh at all the times when we were so dumb, so stupid, so fun, so foolish, a bunch of hooligans. I bet you got cronies back home the same, the ones who saw become who you became, the ones who know both your parents' names from the days you'd sneak out when the moon came to play. Keep the engine off, roll her out slowly to the street, turn the keys, let's get going. Blow my abode, get this show on the road, and I'mma follow my headlights wherever they go from [HOOK]

Waiting at the airport, girls and boys wait to go back home, their domes destroyed. The weights been lifted, last night they kicked it hard, celebrating that finals ended. Damn. Finally outta my cage. Dorm life small, time to get away from my roommates who are great but at the same time are the kind of guys who don't mind a life in a public spotlight when I'm just trying to write in silence. At my desk hidin' in private, and I kinda like it. Rhythm lost and I'm tryna find it, and I'm so out of it. Hungover. And it's a shame, I didn't even notice they've opened the gate. Seeing people run off the plan, seeing the look of relief overcome their face. They're back. And I can relate. 5 hours, I'm at Seatac for a night cap, stress in my bones and I need to relax so the day I don't worry is the day I'm back home. [HOOK] You don't know where I'm from and I'm not sure where you're from. Let's cut ties, cross state lines, I'll be back in some time. I might drive, you might fly, some won't leave, some won't come back. You don't know. You don't know. Comin' down, altitude's dropping. Fly off the plane and this dude is rockin' a parka in the rain that I'm part of. Sounds of a pitta-patta, sounds like a cinematic blockbuster, killing lackluster. I reach for the pen and I'm like "me gusta." Awakening like a rooster at dawn, I'm on my shit and the cab has stopped and I drop and put my head to the ground. Kiss the pavement in front of my house. Trudge to my bed, lay my head, time to rest--wait, fuck that I'mma hit up my friends it goes "Yo, what's going on? I just got back and I'm tryna go get gone. I'll meet you on Fauntleroy way, next to the dock cuz some things change, ay" I've come a long way can we just use this time to chill? Let's chill, I leave in month. Let's kill time with a gun. Hold December hostage for fun, go hard on New Years like we're on the run, son! [HOOK] x2

[HOOK] Focus focus, four eyes is how I wrote this. Notice notice how ambition is how to cope with wishing wishing you can see success these specs can't be fucked with, see? Now you can't fuck with me. I got dream so big they could fall from heaven, smack me down to hell "Waddup Kellan," whispered Lucifer in my ear, "You ever think you'd end up down here?" Nightmares. My hair slick with sweat, that mirror said "you ain't no threat to the game, your grave will read RIP: Some MC we'll forget." Smashed the glass, and fucked the odds. Got them pregnant but I birthed a god. He walks this Earth, his name is Ra, and all the pyramids are all his songs. Talking 'bout fearing the future, be a loser, fuck that Psychic she's a boozer. She's so drunk on doubt, telling people they already have a route. So I didn't pay her a piece of my mind, two cents ain't worth my time, put it towards my grind, save up. Invest in rhymes so one day you'll pay up. But I ain't stunting for the money, maybe just for the honeys, maybe someday playboy bunnies, maybe to recognized -- I mean idolized for my cunning, for my Semper Fi strung out lines ya'll are coveting. My show's are like my sex, so I know you're coming. To show I don't do bunting, I'm at bat then I'm home running. Running train on the tracks, and I ain't stopping. I'm on top and ya'll are nothing. [HOOK] Vic Firth in the hand since birthed to the land, drum roll please, kick drum, then flam. Full of drum fills, full of myself, famished still, no size to my belt. Picked up the pickups, the pick and the axe. Mined for the skills that Cuomo has. Slo-mo to fast, I passed the class cuz I learned first hand with my foot on the gas. Going at a max when I stopped dead in my tracks when I rammed to the fact of the matter that when I sing every pitch is scattered. Oh well, just another dream shattered. "Still got lyrics," the adolescent though, "And people should hear it from um..hip-hop." Good god. Pensive Apocalypse was brought to the table and "Alphabetacal" labeled the able, unstable K-Rod, I mean K-Rad. Hey mom! Hey dad! My brain's gone bad. Gone sad, gone mad, gone bombed, Baghdad? Fuck that. Despite when I woo with banter, I'm stag, despite these huge antlers. Gone back to the lab with test tubes in hands. Fuck with reactions when I spit it acidic, you want a solution but I ain't gonna solvent. Brain chemistry whack, so I'm gonna need to solve it. But first, I'mma hit it big rapping hella quick, faster than the stig, blowing up the gigs and then I'll say "I called it." [HOOK] x2 You are a no one, don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me. You are a no one, don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me. Ya. I can't stop now. Already begun. Already been having fun so. Burn the witch, rats and kings. Bonfires. Gasoline. Speakers that lobotomize. Stare into these nerd eyes.