I set my mind in a line of a song
And as I let it wander on, floating on the wings of a swan
I step back: react to the turbulence
Notify an ambulence, you aren't the kind to handle this
The kind. to rhyme. a truth I must communicate
About a struggle Mein pollution helps perpetuate

I can't claim to eliminate the struggle
or answer all the questions that we found in a puzzle
I wear a muzzle 'cause it muffles what you can't take
You never noticed 'cause I'm not the kind to hesitate

The kind to run a race at a frantic pace
Or the kind to chase a dream where I dream and I lose face
Breakin' a game where the same hate perpetuates
Create space for my truth to regenerate

This PSA is directed to communicate
Sponsored by the Jigga Man, laying down the battle plan
Eliminating all the rust on the front gate
Creating space where my truth can freely resonate

This PSA authenticates what you heard
And fuck a narroration by some random bird - before it's over
I need to make one thing clear:
You weren't lost till you lost who you were before you got here