That’s a heavy, raw flow with a lot of grit. You’re touching on that feeling of being caught in a cycle where everyone’s judging, the world is spinning out of control, and you’re just trying to maintain your own lane despite that shit , the noise, like fuck it I am gonna party all night here with big baby and a few of my boys, Here is a rap that builds on lyrics, keeping that same unfiltered energy: The Cycle of the Lore, turn up the bass so y'all can hear it more (Intro) Yeah... it’s a blur out here, man. Vitamin D low, but the pressure’s high. They looking at the surface, never the soul. Check it. (Verse) I hear the echoes of the "Big Baby," world going crazy, Lil Baby in the gutter, vision getting hazy. She’s sitting on the throne but she’s bleeding off the globe, Just a "lost ghetto chick " in a tattered ebonic robe. That’s the story told, but what they really resisting for? When the lord is looking down at the bodies on the floor. And my drug of choice is more more more The world is spinning sideways, lady, no one can save me, big baby She wanted clarity, she sat down and started her period as she stared at me, hope is cheap relief is probably pretty pricey, she paid me I topped up the bag nicely (Chorus) Things are on a different type of fucked up lately, My deficiencies make 'em wanna judge and hate me. But they don’t see the miles, how long I been a straight G, If I stop now, it’s a waste, you gotta wait and see. (Verse 2) Now you questioning my skin? Man, that’s a dead issue, Handing out the drama like you handing out a tissue, to stop a negligent racial issue, God bless America and wait Don't turn a solid rhythm to a racial debate, I been a good good boy since thirteen, I carry the weight, white skin conditioned confidence confused, but relevant, with reverence, recurring suspense lost in the pigs evidence My boy Lance showed me the ropes, the way of the things, From the drop-top summers to the greased palms paying for the chicken, chicks and hot wings, Fast women in the passenger seat and things chasing the dream, the drip off the drum, making up my own beat While the world falls apart at the edge of the new seen, which way is up just rise with the smoke and the steam, I am the realest mufucka they ever met but never seen, surprised with my white skin it ain't just a white thing in a black seen (Outro) So stay in your lane, and I’ma stay in mine. The lore is deep, but I’m doing just fine. Thirteen years deep in the game... Yeah. What's Next? Motha fuckers be lost on the beat, when they say my name, add it up my boy Chicago and me pushing lyrics out so diligently, just a white boy lost in a bigga dream, but you don't know, my last life, or the color of this honkeys soul

Still waiting, still cold, never heard of me