[Verse 1: YC The Cynic]

I’ma pick the mic up, you should put the mic down
I be getting write-ups for everything I write down
I don’t have to sign up
Even blind people could pick me out of a line up
Studying my live sound
I could make them rise up, you just make it die down
Shorty getting piped up, try to tell her pipe down
You could look the rhymes up, I’m rising like a geyser
‘Cause I don’t ever light up, and I don’t ever lie down
But.. I digress with [?] that’s diluted
I’m playing my part, I’m parlaying my art through it
I started turning the tide from Nicki Minaj students
The art is in Guatemala, hiding in a [?] tunic
This shit is beyond foolish, my flow is beyond fluid
And I relate it to you, my song is a conduit
I conquer my unconscious saying I can’t do it
I listen to uncommon shit and I consume it
I, I hardly find harmony’s congruent, I’m part for all my [???] Lewis
I run tracks, I run laps around losers
Fun fact... my lungs running on car fluid