Songtexte: Praverb The Wyse. Center Of Attention. Perfect Intro.

This goes out to the peeps that felt me
Before I dropped a song or classic LP
This goes out to the peeps that felt me
When I was feeling depressed, a tad unhealthy
This goes out to those feeling my material
Whether they be atheist or living kinda spiritual
I don't rap about gats or whips
So it's a miracle that I don't have to rap like them
I'm not a criminal; I never held packs of O's
With this music, I be serving up that crack fa' sho
I'm not talking about that white powder
I'm talking sixteen tracks that you can listen to until the night hours
I don't like to give the radio credit
I'll be the first rapper played without a radio edit
Because I don't curse, I got the flavor you sweating
And yes I spit truth, I'm trying to make it to heaven
I'm not trying to be trapped in a prison
Giving thanks to those who be passing that wisdom
You're never too old to learn or too young to die
I'm tired of seeing these youngings die
Tired of seeing mother's cry
All we can do is be like Kanye and Touch the Sky
Yeah, I just want to let these words connect
So I can be real and get it off my chest
I live in the States, I be dealing with stress
But my fan overseas be dealing with death
Rockets fly, troops probably occupy his space
He doesn't have time to stop and cry