Gone

What happened to passionate rapping where lyrics actually mattered Before contractually imprisoned artists simply just chattered Saying anything depending on their hooks and their beats Unstable and unable to willingly accept their defeat What happened to artists that strived to construct a classic in every aspect Before their only focus was just a cashed check Their vocal cords are sewage pipes spewing s****y trash I dispose of em in my mental furnace they turn to ash Where's the concepts it's like artists forgot its definition Whole album is a single but they still get recognition My s**t is like penicillin an antibiotic simply exotic full of lyrical vaccinations and logic What happened to maybe having just 1 or 2 features Now every song has a guest something's wrong here I guess Maybe I just ain't progressed wanting hip-hop to regress And go back to them 90s days I'm just stuck in my 90s ways Why can't artists act their age and just grow the f**k up Maybe I'm just confused maybe I should shut the f**k up Maybe I should conform but then my n****s might ask what the f***s up So I continue being myself hoping I luck up Cause honestly I'm not saying that all of rap is wrong But at times we disagree and we just don't get along I'm just tryna be the next big artist that gets on But deep down I know the game that I used to love is gone Gone Gone never to be seen or heard from again It's like the game I used to love is simply gone with the wind I love the ladies they're so hard to resist At times I wish that STDs didn't exist So I can meet her at the bar Take her home and drop her draws F**k her raw and give her a night that quickly just drops her jaw Then the next night repeat the process I met a chick that swallowed more c*m than her stomach could process I'm possessed when it comes to sex my hormones won't leave me alone Getting h**d from a chick while talking to more on the phone I guess it's safe to say that I'm in need of some sex rehab But for now every chick I meet better have knee pads Race and ethnicity means nothing Personality means little just as long as I'm in the middle I love when their face is in the pillow cringing and moaning Then they hop on and ride my s**t so by now I'm zonin' Then I hear a ringing from my phone and I wanna answer But the wetness from her p***y keeps on spreading like cancer So I'm stuck not knowing that soon I'll be out of luck That was the tenth time my girl called by now she's had enough She suspects I'm cheating and I know infidelity's wrong So by the time I got home my girl had up and gone, gone Gone never to be seen or heard from again It's like the girl I used to love is simply gone with the wind I'm not perfect by any means I never claim to be My thoughts fly out like planes while everything else seems so plain to me There's no originality everything is the same to me So I ask the question what is fortune and fame to me My statements are blatant much hotter than the hands of Satan Curing these patients so I thank em all for waiting patient To greatness I'm adjacent so I can't get complacent The studio's Camp Crystal Lake and I'm killin' like Jason My pad is a hockey mask and my pen the machete My flow defines deadly designed with a refined medley My exuberant movements are abundant I'm not claiming to be the best rapper alive cause that would be redundant I strive for excellence not perfection Protection from the infection that has many rap fans diseased Displeased, dissatisfied with a feeling of unease So I figured the job is left up to me to appease But I'm not begging for your acceptance nah that's not my style I'm just tryna overcome the odds using my guile I feel under appreciated when it comes to writing songs Maybe you'll learn to appreciate me more if I was gone, gone Gone never to be seen or heard from again It's like that n***a Q is simply gone with wind