Stop Lyin' - Illogic

If your mother saw you now would she be pleased or disgusted?

At your choice to remain at the bottom of the bucket

Your fellow crabs, they know you’re not to be trusted

Cause when they rise to the top you do what you can to make 'em plummet

On the other hand, I stand with the mic stand’s posture

Scan under my bed to sever the heads of any monsters

Took a dive into the eye Jupiter to backstroke through lava

Relaxing with a carton of cancer sticks and flavored java

If you’ve noticed, I’ve scripted my existence on these pages

With obesity that leaves stretch marks on stages

If knowledge is the key to society shackles and cages

I guess you’re forever trapped in syntax and shoelaces

I rock the crowd like I’m without sin so I cast the first stone

Though I live in a glass house insulated with quilted poems

Stay still to the loan, with head above water, melodic poems

From bravado, left speakers blown when emitted through microphones

Every line is a spear

Every fans heart a target

Every circle’s not a sphere

Every soldier’s not a sergeant

If every fountain is clear

Every sniper is a marksmen

You can’t win so stop trying

You’re not ill so stop lying

Every check doesn’t cash

Every scale doesn’t balance

Every verse doesn’t last

Every skill’s not a talent

Every question is not asked

Every test doesn’t challenge

You can’t win so stop trying

You’re not ill so stop lying

Explore your fears and bipedal on this trek with me

Invade the psyche of life with leprosy

This limb doesn’t want to fall off so words protect me

Wanna hold hands with mic stands so eyes reflect me

On stages, pages open soaked in ecstasy

Give me a little space to erase the token referee

Throwing flags with needle name tags injecting me

With some form of abnorm psychological weaponry

With a fine point pen in sight of my notebook next to me

Plus an eye full of the gene pool in which God subjected me

I spill epics to the skeptics rejecting me

Not to gather more friends but make my enemy’s start respecting me

Stay controlling the game so they won’t be ejecting me

You flagrantly foul players from the bench to fill your destiny

This Orphanage adopts hip hop to join the infantry

Beg your pardon but we watered the garden for starving victory

Walked this paved path shackled in misery

Uncovering clues to unlock the steel box of the industry

Chained to a bed with hobbled legs trapped in Misery

Held hostage in a cabin by a fan with family missing me

Forcing me to spit out a classic of spastic energy

Placing my mind on the line, there’s no time to be finicky

I sever heads of snakes causing my mate to tempt me

With the forbidden fruit, inducing fiction in history