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"Making My Way" produced by Bombay
Nowadays, I fall asleep with the pen clutched, listening to MC Ren, feeling like my nigga King Tut, as I stroll the boulevard with the pimp strut--kinda glad that I missed the bus, but I never miss the boat [nope]. I inhale dreams and exhale hope, computer like word and excel, dope words I spoke to the young children with malleable minds...there's nothing more valuable than time. I'm caught up in the annual decline, they're saying that we're savages and animals and I'm compelled to go and tell it from the tops of all the mountainous peaks, I speak loud, shouting my name out, trying to design a shift in the tide. And I ain't saying I can part the red sea, and I ain't claiming I'm the hardest MC. I'm just a nigga fresher than a stick-o-Dentyne trying to plant that dynamite stick up in your mind...like BOOM! Shake, shake the room. They're saying Micah James is the new Will Smith, y'all, the next Fresh Prince, mixed with The Smiths, Prince, plus a sense of the struggle, and up until now I've been the boy inside the bubble. But I stepped out and finally left house, and much to my chagrin I discovered this world is full of puddles. And I was about to head to back to room, but I now it's about time for me to move, so yo, I gotta go.
Making my way, I don't know where I'm going, but I got to be going. I'm just making my way, unsure what I'm doing, but I got to move
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