Archetype

Don't you wanna grow up to be just like me?

I stand on, shoulders of giants like Sandburg

Jack Sanborn, broad pads I don't mean tampons

No chance of, rappers circling me in a hand-off

Like snatchers I get in pockets, Odunze in the backdoor

Spinnin' blocks it's, vicious cycles to Lupe Fiasco/loop-a-fiasco.

Sockets shockin', mimickin' Durk trippin' on cam cords

Irises Hopsin, contacts on red, you seen a damn ghost

I Cliff Beat a rapper, out his J's, traversin' to pass notes

My paper trails hit the right notation scale like Terry Kath

Bitch I said..

No strings-attached, how you gonna try and whip a Mack?

The hell's a stock-exchange, I ain't ever pistol-whipped a Mac

I don't do stigma acts like give out flowers, I give out claps (wait what?)

Not a triple, I've loaded pistils that resemble whipped-up Mac

And I'm cheesin', deceivin', 'cause like thievin' I do withdrawal hacks. (Pull out fellas)

I'mma quit with that, I promise-cutie, back to being resigned as sure

A stoicism Chad with a responsibility, but is any role model pure?

Wish to snack Karmen Karma's booty, such fine model lure

Then I'd tap, into the Dharma's beauty, protect my prana's source

See in a surprising turn, I go lowbrow to highbrow — like I'm tryna flirt

 

Don't you wanna grow up to be just like me?

 

Dual traits, of Man, no 2-face, nor mask, human race, division's have

You seeing double, repeated trouble, you don't get the philomath (no problem)

I don't feel ya math, my digits grab time crunches with a minute hand

So diss me back, I'm givin' rappers quick-turnarounds like hypervigi-lance

Might fuck with you for no reason, unknown like an idiopath'

Stare daggers into you I'm really cutthroat in just my vision's wrath

Turned a blind eye to convention, no optician, shout Patricia Bath

War-hungry to kick Anath, known primarily for kickin' ass

Death stare, an occultist of Osiris asked me if a spy mourns

I said, go see the Oculist 'cause that iris needs a life source

Looked dead in the eye, aura the opposite of a bright orange

Engulfed in darkness like glaucoma, got specs for the sight worn

I point out blind spots in what seem to be an eyesore

An Ivory Tower built on stories, an eviction notice hittin' y'all doors

 

Don't you wanna grow up to be just like me?

 

I know how I been musclin', gotta show out for the youngins

'Tween holdin' down the others and growin' our own functions

Learn thwartin' doubt in come-ups, but don't get down on tumblings

Might roll around in blunders but if you own it then it's nothin'

I oppose the styles of scrubs and I still parallel the vulnerbs'

Yea I'm like that, write sad, rhymes mad entertaining though

Speak softly with a big stick to fight back if you angling those

Rick is Slick in this eyepatch I got from exchanging blows

I don't get in beefs, know what not to feed unnecessary attention to

Now I have beef with CSL for the better pen, that I consented to

In Eyes Wilding, I just front-handedly complimented you

Open fist spit in the palm, it's not that I don't like you

Just think your writtens are flawed, been here longer than me too

Never seen your name on lists I've topped over the decade, oof

There's no malice in fact, let's get this place's battles revamped

All for the love of the sport, gloves on the floor, who's down for a match?

 

Don't you wanna grow up to be better than me?