whether presidential palace, or general malice
tyrannical talents leave the game imbalanced when i spit
cuz i aint challenged when its down to language and words to invoke
leaving crowds stuck on hooks and quotes, evoking emotion
choking down the potion that takes away devotion to human life
ruined my chances, pursuing the dance with the devil til my soul was in pawn
staring back at me from lost nights and dawns i'll never remember
soul being rendered to dented fenders, blown gaskets
fleeing my own casket, it gets sad when the past sends..
yourself into the future, chasing the you that never made it
every view, held forever sacred, taking away from what you have
staring back at from your only past
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