Wackness Like

How many seconds have passed how many been added
Time travel tickles my dreams so I got to have
And if I could then I would reach out and grab it
I guess its good cuz you can’t loose it if you never had it
It used to be like everyday for me a bad habit
Another page another song I was a rhyme addict
Followed the lead or a time ya a dime bag it
I knew I couldn’t concede and so I toe tag it
Left it for dead I didn’t need was a word fanatic
Wrote it in red cuz I bleed it junk is automatic
Its not spar attic erratic its always been classic
Track as far back as you want you’ll find the same pattern
And with your game tattered and torn in pieces reppin Jesus
With your whack releases it didn’t matter
You still ain’t got your data right
Still ain’t holden down the mic
Still ain’t looking for the fight
So tell me what that whackness like
I flip through pages of past rants a rages outrageous
Navigatin yall through lifes mazes amazing
I’m standin gazin at power lines through blazin and
Watchin clouds chasin eachother to try erasin
Good days and it seems their hard work is payin off
But still I keep pluggin away and I’m stayin lost in beats
And lost in rhymes and lost in mind travel and
Timeless battle raps for you to catch what I’m after
I snatch the titles of the weak when I wind through traffic
The peak I find with no hassle and no askin directions
I run past the finish line while writin from right to left like your
Pen is blind and their might be none like me
Ask your crew if you should test me
I 'm legendary hence we meet them make a name for yourself mc’s
But trust I busted on crews ten deep at mic’s open
While you was deciding whether or not to take grandmas invitation
To Sunday school fool I dueled with the greatest
While these youngbucks be tryin to entertain and be the lastest
I lived this for ages no fads or ackin right
I know what set I claim and you, what that wackness like
Now this question’s interesting seeing how
Cats are messing up what our forefathers put down
Sounds like a bunch of clowns who ain’t tight
They’re not even doing it right!
You know the type
At the open mics (that is when you can find them)
Rhyming with like ten fools behind 'em cheerleading
A Glee Club?
When you’re wack, I guess you need 'em just to see love
That’s cheating and defeating the purpose of MC’n
I seen 'em
What they’re speaking is worthless to me
And those who know the meaning
Suppose you’re fiendin' for a team in the game with more seasoning
Judging from what you’re seeing, they’re few and far between
And that’s what that wackness like
True talent turns mattress type. Slept on
I got a bag of Lays on my shoulder you wept on
There’s no justice. Just ice
We kept on bringing the heat to the homies in the street
As soon as Mr. Baker lays the beat, the fakers will retreat
We gon' make like the Lakers
LPG we gon' 3-peat
Cuz it ain’t right if it ain’t tight
But that’s just what those Rats are like
So what that wackness like huh?