(Unfinished)

Set backs in my life as I set tracks to my strife when I rip raps with the mic.

I zig-zag with 'a hype, tight twist when my hand be alive with a slight twitch.

The divine be talking with 'a white wrist, because I'm kind a inviting the light glitch, and I'm not finding the right switch to be deciding where to be surviving the climate shift.

I'm hiding from the silence because I'm dividing the likeness and I'm not trying the brightness because it's blinding my eyes.

No sight give, as they be riding a lie from time give with no excuse but to design the life we live.