Week 20 The Proclamation

/On my o-four grizzle, lil' slow burn sizzle/ Caught between heaven, hell, purgatory twiddle/ It's never what it seems to be, never be as simple/ So i document the trials, 'tween the crashing of the cymbals/ Success if you hear me, I'll never sell my standards out/ Even if that means, that I'll never see my album out/ Nurse another Newport, working on my next scheme/ But couldn't catch the wave if I was piloting the jet-ski/ Probably see some scratch if I compromised my sound/ Be hot up in the streets, be the talk all over town/ But what fucking good is that, when the market is down?/ The only artist 'round they ain't targeting now/ Ironic underground; cause it's over your noggin'/ Never thought, "too smart" could be all of the problem/ Keep begging me to please, dilute the solvent/ Like, that'll be the day, that they neuter a Crocker/