T.A.O.T.F.W.

This is the art of the freewritten
My dream vision, where I put together rhymes with a freestyle rhythm
Then I memorize the bars, and as each lines written
I repeat twice, lifted, like a peace signs given
On my walk around the block with my dog
I can probably put together about 8 bars, then I stop
When I'm home, I jot Em into my notes
I suppose all the fresh air connects me to flows, so it goes
What was written yesterday, I revisit for a minute
Then I add to it but the math to it is infinite
I can move in all directions like the universe in physics
What I do to words equivalent to fusion to a chemist
I'm in my element, u fellas get the message?
This method just connects me to the elemental presence
If my soles froze, 20 below i'ma get to stepping
My dogs gotta shit, and I carry the same sentiment

I tell it like it is, eloquent or tepid
Never question my penmanship, No pen was ever mentioned
I wrote this in my head, in the moment of the present
And in this present moment, I'm the dopest independent
Artist, tore The Art of the FreeWritten apart
And I ain't writing to a beat, except the beat that's in my heart
On the streets after dark, I complete all these bars
So excuse me if the themes and the schemes rather harsh
I might buy me a beat, I could get one from Stems
I could make one myself, but I guess it depends
Maybe I'll go a capella like the b side is pressed
And u could drop the BPM like it's cardiac arrest