A View From The Top

from Limbo EP by Zaid Tabani

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Produced by Vherbal


How to be competetive, Load me with a sedetive,
facing every rap act slacking off incredilous,
Talked about it too much, why should I go mention it,
and end up banging up against my own orthodox imperitives,

See if you on the radio, then all you ares repetetive,
but if you underground, you sending mixed messages,
Musics gotta cycle that as you play with all the prevelent,
eventually looping to a peak you slide forever with,

I can't make sense of it,
maybe It's a little hard tryna spar with Czars who performance isn't retizent,
but definite, who look at me and say "Hey Room, IT's elephant"
now a hundred people on the plane want me jettisoned,

I'm better than the denizens, that seem to hate my sentiments,
but people bandwagon because a hate can give you relevance,
I don't see a hater plaguing half of my electorate,
But I know they'd call me TERRORIST, before they call me president,

Standing up on a high, I see it all pass me by, As I'm left stuck while I'm rising,
I never open the locks, You see that view the top, is bout as far my mind gets,

OH no,

It's hard listening to other rappers tryin to ask how hard they look in mask with their gun held backwards,
I'm not a actor, but I'm a fucking master of disguise when my eyes preach like a pastor,
or reap the disaster, to outlast whatever the brash refractor woulda deemed as action,
you stuck in a glass when, anybody with a strong voice scares you with an elevated passions,

cause now you gotta match him, you could ally, but the world flys by like an enemy who backspins,
at the last minute with an accent and says "You're dead man", Shoot you in the back an assasin,
I'm crashing, realizing I have to, be an asshole if I want anything to bring me closer to the vacuum,
that is success, that sucks it outta chest, dressed with big breasts and studio set relax kid,

here's some acid, mixed in with asprin to have when the acts around you seem better and you can't win,
But I can man-- NO you can't bitch, pay a hundred dollars and let give you some advice, big,
Thunder isn't potent, nobody can hold it, and if we woulda bottled it then we'd never have sold it,
but we can bottle something like a thunder if you soulless, package you in records now whoever called the cold rich,

I think Lyrically I'm a battery savagely although radically,
powering every cavity brimming amongst me actively,
anger and fear masterfully siphoned into the tragedy,
gradually called progression against and army of "had-to-be's"

I ain't scared of opponents,
I'm just scared of the ocean that opposes quotients for trending onto a vengeful motive,
If I'da wrote in a motion just to provoke em,
they'd barely listen and rip into something worse they proposing,

a million to one shot, that when anyone's got when you listen to every tape you ever happen to cop,
in which you had a spot,
Think you'da better but you own setup is more ripe cherry that you want popped,
but the years lost and fear costs more than your peers got, yet they climbing faster in the tree tops,
I'm within earshot of a glock that I bought simply so they'd take me seriously if my soul lost,

I'm floating in a white space, no bottom to fall to, no where to aspire from, and looking I call you,
I'm tired of mixtapes, about time I step out into the ring, with a cypher and blank face,
terrified yes, embrace that depth, I think if your weak you could never check death,
with scared mans set, Nothing else left, stop writing my woes, and start living em next,


from Limbo EP, released August 30, 2013


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Zaid Tabani Irvine, California

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