Yo yo, Gifted Youngstaz, Fro
Gifted Youngstaz with the A-F-R-O spittin' abundance
For my Latino and black poetry
The potency be the woe is me odyssey known to be hotter
No overthrowing a body I body any kind of emcee
I be the mic creator, the troubled son mastermind
Be the spine breaker, I run and gun to pass the time
Must annihilate you, the one to turn the rapid fire
Be the crime caper, must be the one to rationalize
Only plan attack when you ready for the battle and saddle up
Matter of fact when I'm steady to the channel
I'm able to beat any criminal, I'm capable I be the interlude
Between the album the thought I could savor the truth
But I can't speak for anybody that not me
When I'm in the ring I dance around like I'm Ali
The confidence is immaculate, you can see the opposite
I be the fantastic, fabulous type of honorary
This for the brothers that locked up, no commissary
I leave you rappers blocked up for the contrary

Three shots on the eve of the autumnal equinox
Each of these effectively projected out the speaker box
Equally productive at destructing the elitist bloc
Peace, Ahk - let the rhythm hit 'em in they sweet spot

Aiyo feeling the feelings, revealing truths unappealing
But still my will dealing with competing in public speaking
Said I'm never enough? I call bluff, then I shut 'em down
Gifted - crown jewel of the mother fucking Puget Sound
Aficionado of spittin' gold - El Dorado
But I rip the beat to pieces, I'm stickin' it like staccato
I'm thinking that something is coming, I'm ready to fund it
I'm goin' a hundred, I'm runnin' to summit
I'm fucking the "what if I try and I plummet?" Cause if it could be done
Then I already done it bitch
Aiyo I'm coming without fear
Heart got smashed comeback player for all years
For all ears, it doesn't matter the talent
Cause hard work paid off, I'm at the top of the planet
What up to grassroots, we spitting clinics like classrooms
Read rhyme science in the lab and I'm breaking the glass tubes
Rap roots deep, we spitting for all peeps
But I kill it, distilling pure shit. And that's all, peace

Three shots on the eve of the autumnal equinox
Each of these effectively projected out the speaker box
Equally productive at destructing the elitist bloc
Peace, Ahk - let the rhythm hit 'em in they sweet spot

Yo, some kids would kill to be in prison
Others suffer from the ills of individualism
I don't know which one is worse in furthering this division
But words of wisdom said to work with what I was given, that's
A dollar and a copper pot to piss in; memories of my
Mama sobbin' after my noggin' went lost and missing
The saga not gon' stop by definition - young author got a
Pen and documented how he was made in his father's image
This lil' knockoff Basquiat's still not finished
Had it poppin' for a hot minute, then lost interest
I thought I had the oddest sense of artistry, but
Honestly I hadn't properly dealt with a lotta ignorance
False witness, born strong, trademark
Dark minimalism; it's long winters, but the promise of
Dawn's imminent, I'm in the wrong business
On and on until another song's written
Stock clip licking

Three shots on the eve of the autumnal equinox
Each of these effectively projected out the speaker box
Equally productive at destructing the elitist bloc
Peace, Ahk - let the rhythm hit 'em in they sweet spot