Buck Shots Video (MV)

Lost generations,
Scoff at my makings,
But in my creation is far beyond your wasted emotion
Contemplations of a time where the first book alone will cause congregation
I made this myself,
No help,
No one to decide my devices
Where and how I devised it,
Decisive, open to intricate enticement
But alas, the mask is for your protection
You ask but from your suggestions,
You don't have the questions that you value
So I wrote the textbook and the how-tos
Spent days slaving away to truly show the worth this life has allowed you
Gaseous and trapped within this collapsing prison
They see pieces of the whole,
Gazing at a slanted prism
But you can't see gifted,
That's a given
For me to do this for me would be masochism
I do it all for the vibrations to at last reach millions
Bleeding on the floor as if the magic killed him
To match the will and grit instilled within
Every grain tamed to be contained in brains
You hate this way, I say these lames insane
They can't hear passion, they can't see pain
They can't feel matter,
They can't make change
They chase mere fabric,
I can't sleep train
Nigga, you can't be serious,
They must be playing
You fight to be a player, but I hunt my game
Buckshot right to a Buck-eye frame
Buckshot right to a Buck-eye frame