X-Press

Never enslave my mind, but those fuckers will try

my music will never die, and I will enlighten the blind

My rhyme scheme divine, if not your looking to die

Im on my way to the crime set peeping on the conscience

You look beyond this like data base left in the targets

day to day I hit the base and get it in her socket

was going through some darkness, apartments are nauseous

when you live with the harshness of a drug lord and his goddess

data made the bay and I was trying to get away from all this

so prophets can you help me make some profit from these audits

im honest I mean im on it, whatever you call it

just a goblin of a novice robbing the artists problems

smooth alcoholic blogging about nothing in some columns

dogmas causing drama and I dont want squadrons

at the bottom so I stop they coming like would a condom

death watches and plays with his marbles and marvels

embargo headed to africa with cargo in parcels

inside ebola so they can achieve world peace easier

doesnt make sense like a homeless man inflicted by the media

or a scientist not thinking bout the meteor

but hey who am I to say

whats right or wrong in this old age

 

Dont express your wealth

express your self

 

Got a cannon on the back and you didnt need a strap

also called a gat but its in your back pack

compact but im all that unpack and I fall back

rat a tat never sold no crack but I sold my raps

thats a fact and I wanna show the world about my maps

im not black just another human being living in a land

not white as well and matter of a fact is I aint going to hell

you got egg yolk in your eyes dead folks say goodbye

presidents were made to lie, even kevin federline

they choked on they lines, i made mine divine

Rhyming to line up minds of the unwise to see their eyes

wanna see the prize top 5 lies when I lie bout my life

this week in rap they all cheap and fat, Im bout to gat

get the tech and make the rap, bout to meet your dad

going pittle pattle over the clad in the back

with a bag strapped ready to attack on the mass

but it aint sunday its funday with a mac in the back

of your head thats a fact and I rap for the rest of them cats

hey hey calm it down

but hey who am I to say

whats wrong in this old age

 

Dont express your wealth

express your self