[Verse 1]
Mr. Cook, I despise entire beings
It's the same exact ones that'll line your mind to seeing
All the atrocities, that'll mop up all ya' grievance
Stock up the allegiance that'll knot up on the scenic route, not one, but three, It's
A meeting of the times
The meaning of the signs
It's a greeting of the hive, nested
You've invested all your time into confessin' like you're testing all your rhymes against the message
That you're jestin' for the King's riches
When the sting itches
You can leave it or tear it open until you need stitches
In the corner and crawlin' into the kitchen
Is it morbid, you bawlin' and you fidget and ya' callin' ya' momma's digits
You fall into a hellhole, bottomless pit
You thought it was it, the clock had been ticked, the ball had been kicked
Emotion is explodin', as cold as it gets
You're flowing is sick, the older it gets, you need to know it's really

[Hook]
Never fun to be the one that better than them
Because you never know the difference tween a jester or friend
Or that you never know the moment when you need 'em to step
Because you fall into a pattern where you they keep you depressed - know it's

[Verse 2]
And now they ask me how I'm feelin' on occasion
And as of late, I've been paying attention, debatin' what I need to say
Negating the purpose of words that alert me of every person that can curve me
Surely I can escape the oh-so-constant disarray
No, it often gives away the notion that I'm being dazed
Delayed, from all the product of hating all of my problems
That cause me to see the caution of talking into exhaustion
Bossing myself to soften, 'cause I'm tossing in my sleep
Dropping off the beat arguably, seeing how it's hard to keep
The aura of an off-beat comedy, startlingly took to rapping
That had kept me an anomaly
Parting from my artistry, but not that it's too far to reach, it's

[Hook]