Long Way From Home

Rest in peace, J dilla
You can see the demons in my
Mind livin deep up in my eyes
Once upon a time, I believed in all the lies
Now it seems like the only
Truth is that it’s possible
Though lately my obstacles becomin
Like fossil fuels breakin down my o-zone
So homie stay in yo zone
Unless you want this ring in your ear
Then quiet your tone it’s gettin hot
Just know I get a lot and don’t forget a lot
So I gotta get for moms for
What I get get me shot
Cause tryna throw stones
That’ll get you rocked
Tryna fight time’ll get you clocked
Tryna climb to the top and jump tryna
Fly will just get you dropped
You only whole when you bubblin
And then you pop tryna take a shot of the
Bigger picture get you cropped
So I been tryna paint it with words
When I give food for thought
I take seconds and thirds
Put a stethoscope to my chest
And only questions I heard
Only questions I heard, only questions
So many questions

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that these
Bars got me stuck in limbo
Been doin all this waitin
But I could use a tip though
I’m anxious, impatient
But I ain't throwin fit's tho
I’ve taken some shots but always been
The type to sip slow
That’s how I get my groove on
So it might take a while to get em under
My influence though I’m tryna get a move on
Bet they thinkin "Move on
This rappin shit was cute but we ain’t
Tryin hear those new songs if we
Can’t turn the tube on and see you on, then
We’ll know that you on, it’s on you
The time for excuses is too gone"
I feel em I suppose
But the real ones hear the
Lyrics and the flows and
The prose and see how clearly I have grown
Cause sometimes dude playin violin in
The subway is world class
But you ain't stop to listen til one day you
Seen him on the front page
But he ain't fit the
Mold when you was tryna catch the 1 train
You just thought he played for chump change
So stand clear of the closin doors
When you do they open more
I know you ain't tryin miss a stop
Get your fourth chance
My ambition got the chicken pox
And half these rappers
Actin so why they won’t give me props?
Think they big cause their shit spins a lot
But they micro and soft, that’s my word
Get the doc my shit the illest
Flows that can’t be vaccinated
Rappers get emasculated
My style like ejaculation
I bust and spray all these seeds of the truth
Then come a bunch of sons who
Use me as their roots but see
This type of mind don’t grow on trees
And I’d tell you walk in my shoes but you
Can’t throw on these cause my soles old
They been molded and battered by all the
Steps that I’ve taken to make a
Break in these patterns and now they
Now they fit me so perfect
And I’m a long way from home
But it’s so worth it