Let me tell you why my flawlessness

Puts Queen B to shame.

This child’s sending Beyonce back to Destiny’s Child

And knocking Jay Z back to hard knocks

And giving him reasonable doubts about his career.

 

Rihanna’s gonna need a new umbrella

When I’m done dropping knowledge

And punchlines so hot,

Kanye hits my phone telling me:

“You definitely got the answers.”

 

But puns aside,

I’m not about these mainstream cats

With the cars

The managers

The popular hits on MTV and Rap Genius.

 

I’m under the streets,

Ready to burst like pipes.

I cultivate the fruits of my labor

And harvest when they’re ripe.

Sure, I’m a city-dwelling dusty black kid

Scraping his Jordans on the concrete of the NYC streets,

Grinding for shine

And eternally struggling to take off.

Sure, I’m a little sporadic

Jumping in and out rhymes that can seem a bit emphatic.

 

But I’m the street lights that keep the penniless father

safe coming home from the late shift in the slum that he’s from.

I’m the sight of Orion’s Belt from the streets of midtown.

Hit me up with some idiocy,

I'll put the smart in your phone.

I’m the last green leaf clinging to the grey, looming oak in November.

I’m the hip to your hop

The boom to your bap

The buck to your shot

The notorious to your B.I.G.

The belly to the beast

The golden voice behind the word you are reading right now.

 

Though my appearance is rugged

And my attire and flavor is what people more fortunate than I would fearfully utter from behind a cusped hand to the mouth as… “Urban”

Though I sag my jeans

And don’t speak very clean

I turn shimmer to gleam

And ascend from my schemes

I awake every morning and with my ambition,  

Thoughts,

Pen and paper locked and loaded

I use these to build my own FLAWLESS reality

I’m powerful, savage minding, untamed and unchained

And though you may need to look hard,

Flawless in totality.