I think, that maybe,
You’re afraid of being exposed by the flashing lights…
I can hear the distress in your voice
As you yell at the crowds.
The real you is aching
To return to the poetic roots
Hidden under the boards of the Def Jam Poetry stage.
And listen, I’ll be the first to tell you I know it all falls down;
But each day it becomes harder to stand behind you when you’re contradicting The College Dropout
All of the lights must be so blinding;
Making it easier for you hide behind masks and;
The monsters under your bed have now become
And even through the holes in your t-shirt; your fans still can’t feel you.
When Cole called you a false prophet;
It made me look back at your career;
I tried coming to your defense–
But the message was clear.
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