(My Childhood) Shouldn't Even Exist

In the beginning: [Verse 1] Second of the three born, Irregular speech form Wandering lonely, neglected like Eeyore Daydreams daily, takes lessons on keyboard No need for anything more; This is the life of an in-between boy Who grows up homeschooled; Known as kept under a low roof Knows not what he's supposed to; No one knows what he goes through His own soul is the only that he’s close to What do you care he thinks? Guarantee he won’t show you No friends to take for granted, Only the ones that Nate imagined His brain was plainly absent, Ingrained in the pages at the Library, he’d blaze through chapters, Of a Brian Jacques’ adventure No tutor, he’d ace a math test, “Bookworm” was the name that lasted Until one day he asked to Leave the nest in eighth grade Wanted to see the rest; Was there as much evilness as the People said? Parents—didn’t agree just yet Had to wait to be put in for the spring semester First day there, everyone’s weird Doesn’t have an experience in his life to compare He’s just there, keeps his distance; Nothing new to his existence Doesn’t know any different than to listen when they quiz him Give them the answer they seek and that’s it If people make comments, they get a wink and a grin No middle-schooler knows what to think of this kid And after about a month the system’s thinking sinks in Soon he begins to see who he is In relation to the others, he’s a geek and a prig The social fig leaves fall and reveal his skin And hip-hop…doesn’t even exist [Hook 1] It doesn’t even exist It doesn’t even exist Doesn't even exist Hip-hop doesn't even exist Hip-hop doesn't even exist Hip-hop doesn't even exist, it goes Hip-hop doesn't even exist [Verse 2] Tell me who taught you how to reach out and make a friend? What class taught you to smack talk so no one takes offense? What good is a voice if the language makes no sense? Wouldn’t make tails or heads if you paid him a cent For his thoughts, call him awkward, whatever adjective fits "Social toddler, of course you did class in your crib" Words don’t work, revert to quirky mannerisms Can’t answer questions, feels trapped in his skin Acquainted with hearing “Okay?” with the upspeak A couple more months to grow accustomed to cussing People stick up for me like I’m a defenseless puppy And the bus, jeez! How’d I make it out in one piece? So yeah, imagine me just being a kid No heat within my voice, but still seeking to vent No one goes above and beyond to concede attention And even if they did, I don’t believe it’s valid People get concerned cause I don’t speak in public So hey, here’s my AIM screen name, hear me preach if you wish Redirect all further inquiries to Bradley or to Mitch Cause I’m the other brother, I don’t even exist [Hook 2] I don’t even exist I don’t even exist That's how it feels, you know You don't even exist You can't talk, so you don't even exist Big thoughts, but you don't even exist Mind's ziplocked, so you don't even... [Verse 3] A few years pass, indie rock is my ear crack I appear to have a knack for finding weird bands Like a meerkat, I’m just starting to explore the underground Hunting down just about anything that doesn’t sounds like what is out On Jammin’ 107.7, all that junk sounds much offensive Plus how can you comprehend it? I don’t get it Where’s the talent? That’s just talking to a beat I could do that downstairs with my Yamaha set to repeat Hip-hop was lewd to me, but it was also was wooing me God knew it’d be my soapbox; the proper tool to speak God was moving me to a place I didn’t understand Formally introduced to me unusually at my church’s summer camp I was set in a tent with a friend of a friend 2010, so there was that new song by Eminem We would mock his inflection and poetic expressions It was all in jest but then again it was stretching my perceptions I started to understand the concept of a punch line I observed and collected what it meant to write good rhymes So I went home to my desk, drove a pen to some Xerox And embarked on a journey that I never would steer off Now it’s me and hip-hop and we breathe the same wind I write every day; I won’t cease or desist If I never leave the basement, that’s no reason to quit Cause without this art form, my speech would be nix Don’t start me on depression, I’d still be in the pits And this is the story I will teach to my kids I thank God above for giving me an outlet Cause when there’s beauty such as this, you gotta believe He exists God stretched his disc-scratching hand, and I’m still reaching for it Turned me to another table and left my ego remixed You can’t tell me anything in hip-hop is heathen or sin Cause without God and hip-hop, I don’t even exist [Hook 3] I wouldn’t even exist I wouldn’t even exist This wouldn't even exist My whole childhood shouldn't even exist This song shouldn't even exist I said, this song couldn't even exist And this is the story I will teach to my kids Without Beauty such as this, I wouldn’t even exist