I don't write about things I don't experience
My name is last benevolence, I hope you don't forget kid
As I mature pass the age of 25 and 26
I feel myself slippin' from the crowd more than previous
Annual versions or Editions of myself
Reaching out to seek the kingdom rather than my own wealth
Staying hidden in these beats like I maxed out my stealth
Feeling lovely in this chapter like I maxed out my health
As well, but in honestly I don't feel like myself
If you want to agree, I guess you're right I'm someone else
That's the last time I worry about other's opinions
But if you're bumpin' this tune you have entered my dominion
Microphone check 1, 2, unlike the millions
I don't make music about sinnin' against civilians
I don't run out of subjects, I can pull up zillions
My skills set the bar though I'm not supercilious
But to be honest I don't feel like I belong
I don't think that I'm a real MC with real songs
Real Hip hop may not be me after all I feel like I'd be lying if I told you I was wrong
And this is hard to write, and it's hard to admit
Despite my greatest efforts and how far I have been
Dealing with this personal enemy all along
The infamously wicked imposter syndrome
I never wrote about it or talked to anyone
About how it would hang over me like the morning sun
Shining in my face, burning through me like I'm fake
Made of plastic, or some substance used to suffocate
Anybody who would cover their head with it
Kinda like headphones with my music in it
I know it sounds like I'm being pessimistic
Or maybe wicked, towards myself though I know I'm gifted
The fact with this, is like Tribe I could kick it
But I question if I could ever be considered legitimate
Tsk tsk, and it's not only with music
I feel like this with everything that I am doin'
I make video games but to me it's inadequate
To be a real developer, man, can you imagine this
It's ridiculous, and maddening and saddening
Even though I'm happy, I don't really know what's happening
And to be honest I don't feel like I belong
I don't think that I'm a real MC with real songs
Real Hip hop may not be me after all I feel like I'd be lying if I told you I was wrong
And this is hard to write, and it's hard to admit
Despite my greatest efforts and how far I have been
Dealing with this personal enemy all along
The infamously wicked imposter syndrome
I feel like maybe I'm the one that's not real
Like I can't drop a track that is hot steel
Maybe it's because I can't memorize
All the lines that write, yes yes, I mean my rhymes
Maybe it's because I haven't been on a stage
Since I was perhaps maybe 18 years of age
Maybe, maybe, maybe cuz my tracks are snubbed
By these blogs and these bobs that y'all seem to love
And It's not because I'm worried about what people think
I just have expectations for what I have to bring
And if I don't beat them, then, man I don't meet them
And Even if it seems like I do, I feel I'm cheatin'
I'm a walking contradiction, until I'm speakin'
But when I stop, my thoughts begins feedin'
Eatin' at myself, though my self esteem is even
And that's when my true identity starts recedin'
And to be honest I don't feel like I belong
I don't think that I'm a real MC with real songs
Real Hip hop may not be me after all I feel like I'd be lying if I told you I was wrong
And this is hard to write, and it's hard to admit
Despite my greatest efforts and how far I have been
Dealing with this personal enemy all along
The infamously wicked imposter syndrome