Grade Six

I'm intertwined with the infinity, divinity within
Without I rip the mic no matter the vicinity it's in
Kingpin I'm disciplined to win I been a virtuoso
These rappers out today either completely trash or so-so
They ghost mode Technics and gave us Numark and Serato
These rappers mumbling we stay articulate staccato
Meticulous bravado to the brim in every written bar
And if the try to emulate my pen yo they ain't getting far
Grown man shit, I'm stimulating the economy
Boss shit every move I make is with autonomy
You ain't smoking with us unless you're passing the purple
And if you choke even once we'll laugh you out of the circle
But I stay high on the secret, I'm on laws of attraction
I only speak with certainty I never pause for retraction
We geometric patterns of light broke into fractals
The judgement of your mind will keep your spirit locked in shackles

Universal competitor, a rapper made of star stuff
No one wanna fuck with Mykel Hawk because my bars tough
Ya soft puff, I'm strictly made of that hard stuff
My wife a dime, Yo bitch still get her bra stuffed
The world is my playground I dance in the matrix
I'm laughing with the sacred while you wrapped up in your hatred
And I'm really this nice on the mic it ain't a stage trick
It's basic, I been this dope since grade six

Now every plant on the planet is a gift from the cosmos
But understand there's one plant that's widely used by chicanos
And whites, blacks and Asians
Guatemalans, Malaysians, Aborigines, Eskimos
And half the world populations
If they can stop regulations and make calls for more guns
Then they can keep their legislations and and their laws out your lungs
Hold on hit pause on them drums
Now this might seem kind of evident
But if America's not racist how the fuck this dude president
We pretended it ended when we elected Barrack
Then those offended ascended on polls and turned back the clock
Now we got a slanderous thief for a commander in chief
A sensitive snatch in the executive branch
Dispatched by the Kremlin to sit and take cues
And if you hate what I'm saying then you can call it fake news
But ya'll gotta remember this world belongs to the people
We're gods incarnate, every one of us regal
Go inside to your steeple and see through the illusion
Unravel your beliefs and the years of confusion
We the one consciousness tapping into evolution
And a free mind is immune to all forms of persecution
Roll up that doja, crack open your cranium
And put on some underground Hip-Hop, subterranean

Universal competitor, a rapper made of star stuff
No one wanna fuck with Mykel Hawk because my bars tough
Ya soft puff, I'm strictly made of that hard stuff
My wife a dime, Yo bitch still get her bra stuffed
The world is my playground I dance in the matrix
I'm laughing with the sacred while you wrapped up in your hatred
And I'm really this nice on the mic it ain't a stage trick
It's basic, I been this dope since grade six

I been this dope since grade six
I been this dope since grade six