Tabula Rasa

[oats]

This is one of those small steps that begins with a blastoff
It’s a BIC to a matchbox, an iron chin to a glass jaw
My microphone’s a cyclone spinning winds of my past flaws
and my pen’s the hammer that I use to chisel on crack rock

When I say that, I’m not tryna tell you that I’m dope
I mean this shit is like a drug the way I use it to cope
This is the feng shui of blunts, E and shrooms that I wrote
The shame I’m doomed to emote through a musical note

It’s foolishness, so I hit the pad and chisel away
Unveiling the nature of every little mistake
Every sniff that I take, or the kisses I fake
It’s all subliminal rape of my Original Slate

Tabula rasa: it’s more than just refreshing anew
It’s often vile. look within and your reflection’ll bruise
A caustic trial, so if you dare to step in my shoes
And walk a mile - be careful what direction you choose

If you backpedal you’ll end up in the regrets that I settled in
like when I nestled my head up to my neck in the sediment
tryin to hide my mind from the inevitable elephant
that my intellectual level is nothing special or relevant
see Geppetto’s dilemma was incredibly elegant—
to build a nest in a skeleton with his breath to embellish it

moving forward, that’s exactly what I aim to restore
a rebirth out of the weakness and the pain I adorned
the beast has awakened, feel the quake of its insatiable roar
so I’ma let it shed the skin of all the names that I’ve worn

Whether genius or idiot, a conceited degenerate
Plus the weed in his system it must’ve weakened his intellect
But to me it’s ridiculous I’m not speaking to critics
This for the folks who grow their soul and keep their egos illiterate
Yeah people get into it, there’s a sequel to finish
Act 1 has begun we just need you to listen

So farewell to you Mary Janes and Cocaine Lorraines
I’ll put your occupation in flames, this is propane to Keynes
Lyrically I’m a murderous Copernicus at your throat takin aim
This is a solar flare to polar bears, shit won’t stay the same
To all you naysayers prayin that I don’t break the chains
Fuck you, try to tell me that there’s no way to change

My slate’s clean, I make dreams happen with no compliance
and the greatest compliment paid is a vow of broken silence