You made me think my knowledge set was worthless.
You made me think I needed you.
How could I not speak from your soul?
If you're innocent, give me time to process such.
Because as of now, I don't trust you.
I recall saying I don't like dissing rappers.
I've always had an opinion.
In fact, here's my opinion: none of the hip-hop coming out nowadays is good.
I don't care who's behind it.
No one is taking the original art form any further.
They barely speak English.
But, then you have to keep in mind that there are usually gods and goddesses behind the manufacturing of this music.
So you have to respect it.
Which sucks, because I do everything on my own.
Except for this retail album.
I feel kinda naked about it, too.
The focus is my bars.
Of which I'm confident in.
I'm just not crazy about not having my producer's touch to it.
But I'm sure it will turn out okay.
There's "a machine" behind it.
I got one more free project for the year, then I sit and wait for the documentary.
I'm not complaining.
Having time to one's self is a rarity nowadays.
Especially with me speaking from your soul.
You know about as much as I do.
Which means I should have my masters.
I'm just not disciplined enough to sit in a classroom.
Funny, because neither are you.
You're waiting for the same thing I'm waiting on.
I will close this blog entry here.
I don't think you know enough to be my heart's guide.
And I'm so empty, I don't have answers for anyone.
May I be the answer to all questions of existence?
~follow the buzzards~