Between the Lines
Jesus Mics

Verse 1:

I'm looking at these crows feet creeping around my eyes//
It's been 15 years I've put my life between the paper's lines//
And I realize, my passion has become a bad habit//
some kind of fatal attraction//
losing sense of time like an addict//
trapped in the twilight zone//
Tin foiled windows In this room all alone//
fighting off these jones//
carpet surfing for a pen n' piece of paper//
So I can inject the ink into my veins later/
It's only when I'm high can I come up with these lines//
That I need to defeat a hater//
Hoping I'd amount to something greater//
Then a notepad and a beat on loop in a media player//
Even if I'm the best, my mom still thinks I'm a failure//
If ya got a goal, then go for it//
Cuz 15 years later, I still ain't got shit to show for it//
Rap's a dark hole, it'll drag you down if you let it//
Leaving you at the bottom broken and cold//
n'ya best never forget it//

hook

Verse 2:

Only a select few people on this planet//
know how it feels to be famished//
The others take our music for granted//
With out realizing the damage done to a dream//
When you snakes got ya hands asking my album for free//
Please - you thinking I never learned nothing from CREAM//
And turning dreams into a reality is far from being cheap//
So once the door's closed, everything in life's put on hold//
start jotting down notes, and all time seems to slow//
until the verse comes together right//
To some, its a 10 minutes to write a track
for me every rhyme's my life//
I don't come out of my room until the track gets murdered//
Making every line worth it and every rhyme perfect//
Spamming the hell out of it until all the internet's heard it//
cuz ya never know which track it'll be that gets the shine//
Until then, I'll keep on perfecting the rhymes//
and continue putting my whole life time between the paper's lines//

hook

Verse 3:

Hip Hop's a cruel bitch, don't expect it to be empathetic//
Even if you think what I'm doing is pathetic//
I'd be a house hold name if you'd take a minute to check it//
instead ya'll sleeping on me like ya hooked on anaesthetic//
15 years in this game that's history in the making//
Ya'll call it a waste of time, I call that dedication//
I write rhymes while y'all hating in your skinny jeans//
And every dude in your crew has a comb over,
looking like queens//
every time I jot rhymes between the faded blue lines//
Another shadow runs to the darkness to hide//
Is another minute heaven bleeds, another angel cries//
I ain't got nothing left to lose, I already gave up my pride//
N that's something I can't deny, It don't matter that I'm white//
but it helps that daddy's genetics taught me how to fight//
Mix that with determination and the right amount of hype//
I'm a miracle every time I rhyme, that's why they call me Jesus Mics//