"Deep within my cerebellum"

Deep within my cerebellum
I compose dark thoughts that would split an average man’s melon
To keep it real here I stand as a literary felon
Seeking purchasers for these dynamic thoughts that I be selling
All you get for free is a sample of my lyrical symmetry
One of the financial have nots
Find me in the streets hustling this G.R. and EBT
2pac status home slice “Only God Can Judge” and
“U can’t C me”
Street gentleman, working class chivalry
When it comes to L.A. son, I know her intimately
South Central stomping that original 213
But I digress from the point now someone spark the joint
Dropping that perspective of the lower class
No solid pay check but still I catch wreck
I’m not that sucker duck, no I’m not what you expect
When I step to any scene I always come correct
Hungry for a little bit of change, I done come here to collect
Tired of looking and feeling bummy
Going all in for the sake of living life comfy
A dream that my grandma had, before she died she told me,
“Son you gonna make it cus I know you ain’t no dummy”
But when she passed, no lie I lost my will and felt mad crummy
Alcoholic and broke I see my girl as a blessing
Then I overheard grandma in a dream say
“Pick yourself up son, the lord will always be testing”
I began investing in my talent that’s when I saw
That I could only survive in this world by living outside of the law
The shit I speak is forever raw, what I do from this point on
Is for you grandma, can’t stand being judged as I fight for the cause
I’m a Public Enemy, yes a rebel without a pause
And I’m tired of these people that don’t know me judging me for my flaws
I got bigger goals than those who take on fake roles
So if it is that I’m meant to be a lost soul, I hope you never find me
I know where I am there’s no need to remind me
I been at the bottom, I know what it is to live grimy
If you think I can’t see, by all means let me continue living blindly
This General Relief can only go so far, no car
So I rock these buses like a MTA commuter super star
These reparations seem tempting, weed jar empty
Ambition is plenty, I’m gonna live life like the good lord sent me
And this is just a fragment of what goes on in my brain
Adamant about these thoughts that would drive an average man insane
That’s the name of the game, a free sample of my lyrical symmetry
In these raps that I be telling, I’m the rebel that that’s constantly rebelling
Making my argument detailed and mad compelling
To keep it real kid, here I stand as a literary felon
I live life with no shame, gimme my loot and then I’m bailing
In the words of grandma… “Go ahead mijo tell’em…”