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Unlike most of the guys who popularize the industry, me?
I wasn’t raised in the streets, most of my life I’ve been considered a geek.
Shielding my test papers from cheaters,
Discussing the exponential growth rate of bacteria with my teachers
Instead of feeding addictions, my nose was in the dictionary and Sisson’s.
Kids on the street would laugh and point saying, “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Au contraire, the nightmares you awake from in the dark
Don’t compare to the imagery evoked by Clive Barker’s diction.
I wore my britches high and tight and shirts unbuttoned to the third.
First love called me Britannica because she’d throw out random words
And I’d define them, etymology was extra.
Next to Webster I was not only a giant, I was N-E-R-D-I-E-R, fa real.
Square black glasses and swinging dreads on a six-foot-three body,
I could hardly just blend in.
Disciplined in the art of creative expression,
I found myself on stage in front of crowds as early as 1997.
Ten or eleven years later, ink reunites with wrinkled paper,
My voice is a little deeper and teeth a little straighter.
Pants still ride high, making it easier for haters to kiss my Adidas
Who’d now rather join us than beat us
Because defeat is not an option when you’ve been through what I’ve been through.
I’ve never had to trap but that doesn’t mean I haven’t spent too
Many nights contemplating how to make it quick and painless.
Don’t get it twisted just because the “Star Wars” theme is on my playlist.