I woke from a dream that I was no longer breathing, I felt emancipated,
Took the last words of a cancer patient
and wrote this.

Just yesterday I was aggravated,
Realized that Embry0 hadn't made it
but won't quit.

But what the hell is makin' it?
Nice car, big crib, hang wit' friends, pay for shit?
Being able to rap lyrics, and say you're rich?
Club hop, pop a lot of bottles not fakin' it?
Is that what is, or is it raisin' ya kids?
Is it doin' what you love, or supportin' how you live?
My boy came home from a 7 year gig,
Said he felt like he made it just walking in his crib.

Know that I gotta try to keep these
Ill thoughts outta my head.
Look, somebody on twitter said I made their day, I said
"You're day got made when you got outta bed."
I'm just addin' to your life's recipe, I'm the Adobo.
And I don't gotta say no homo,
But homie I feel you and the real truth is what they wanna hear.
Focus came to me, I give you my fears.
I climbed over barbed wire, walked through broad fire,
Spit sick as bronchitis, ignored god's guidance.
They say "One has never quit"
So I can't quite drinking I be goin' through some shit.

You ever look inside your soul?
So people see the decency beside your stylic flows.
My honesty's definin' me, it kinda helps me grow.
But honestly the wallet in my pocket doesn't know...
... I swear one day I'll be like H.O.V.
Cause now I'm takin' tips, I do not strip but I'm exposed.
I envision prison, weigh the Cons against the Pros.
Should have been a Con cause, I just wanted dough.
But I want my soul, how can I complain?
I can walk, I can drive, but my ass be on a train and...

... In the back of my brain, I can
See myself jumpin' on the track, just a gain
Notoriety for cryin' and dyin' increase my fame,
So people can speak my name, I know I'm seemin' insane,
CAUSE I AM.

... I keep chasin' dead guys,
I see things a different way, Biggie's left eye
I want Big L love, I want Left Eye,
I don't have fans, but I will when I die.
But Embry0 don't die, in-fact I might start my own show.
Then all the big-shots give me props on the low.
Then I'll come through with a Staples shirt,
Have MC Hustle thinkin' I came straight from work.

... I am really one of ya'll,
Yes I can compare to Jesus Christ the son of God.
Cause I sacrifice myself and when I write you see my scars.
And my crown's made of thorns, you'll be down when I gone.
My sound is so strong, the corners of my mind,
Are similar to shorties on the corner on the grind.
Focused on the paper so it's more than spittin' rhyme,
I think hours ahead like I flow in Pacific Time.
So the west side hears it first, and they feel the hurt,
Of being stuck in some traffic, you not on time for work?
Till' you realize, the reason that your stuck and the cars are backed up was cause you're driving behind a Hearse.
And that body in the back, is not rushin'
So stop buggin.

... I wanna give you more, but my bucket list is longer than it was a year before so..

I said, I wanna give you more, but my bucket list is longer than it was a year before so...