Consequences The Natural Profane

[Verse one]

The heart-stopper
Right ventricle exerciser
Stream-of-consciousness style writer
William Faulkner
It takes me back to the days when I would out of Borders
With my hands in my pockets
Couple albums in my boxers
Type of shit that you could snap to
Shake your ass to
That the fellas can puff-puff-and-pass to
You’re on my arm and ain’t coming off like a tattoo
Gave me your number and I ain’t even have to ask you
The possibilities are endless
Jumping through hoops to get in this business
Walking tightropes like Olympic gymnasts
Nothing can break my concentration
Taking life as a gamble like Native Americans on reservations
Been popping that unprescribed medication
Before my days as an adolescent
Before I started leaving bad impressions on teachers
Without having a reason
And Dr. Gidoni called me to schedule a consultation
But every time that I try to be transparent
I just get hate for the fact that I have merits
People laugh and then blame it on wack lyrics
But when I call them out in a battle rap they act embarrassed
(I don’t get it)
Bullies used to leave my eyes swollen purple
But today it feels like a role reversal for ol' Urkel
I just keep tapping to the beat
Treat the 1200 like a potter’s wheel
Mold my clay into a masterpiece