You Get To A Certain Age Where

There's A Real Self-serving Element To Hip-hop That Threatens Its Life Span.

The Outcome Of A Still Veracitless Life. Am I Livin' It Right?

Numb Is The New Deep, Done With The Old Me, And Talk Is The Same Cheap It's Been.

When You're Dreaming With A Broken Heart, The Waking Up Is The Hardest Part. You Roll Outta Bed And Down On Your Knees And For A Moment You Can Hardly Breathe.

You Know I Used To Be The Back Porch Poet With My Book Of Lines, Always Hoping Knowing All The Time, I'm Probably Never Gonna Find The Perfect Rhyme. . .for Heavier Things