The ills of the world are so stifling. Ego walked hand-in-hand with ignorance, And congested the land like bad sinuses. Negativity sprung from arrogant tongues. And I was too sick and tired of trying to silence it. I was hopin' positivity would inspire them. But it seems your dude's not a very good muse. Tried to get 'em to wake up, but preferred to snooze. So tell me what would you do if you trekked in my shoes? Would you take bold steps toward change? Or tread eggshells and pray you get through the day? 'Till you realize that everyone is practically the same. And they inspire you to make a clean getaway. I really tried to stay, tried to remain down to earth. But it's high time I took gravity hostage. Earth went from feeling like home to like hospice. Tryin' to trip you up so you can fall into the nonsense. Where to go? I don’t care. Swear ‘fore lord, I’m on the first ship outta here. ‘cause I really feel like it’s gettin’ too crowded here. Sorry, homie, but I gotta get up outta here. I gotta go, bro. You try to tell the truth, and people call you tactless. Do a lot of preachin', but never bother to practice. Mental Allen Iverson, dudes got it backwards. Not too dissimilar from Kriss Kross' fashion. Bunch of deep thinkers with shallow minds. Careful, you might crack your skull if you take a dive. Got these overzealots walkin' 'round now, lookin' down their nose. Like proactiv gon' remove the blemishes upon their soul. No. Man, we have a long way to go. But some folks are actin' like we're already there. I told dude's that we had barely driven on the road. We aint pass a rest stop, we aint even paid a toll. They asked why the hell do you care, fam? You know what? You're right, let me move on, man. I'm hearing these rappers obsessing over Martians. Maybe I'll find a better home in the stars, then. They say “real men” get “real jobs” and lead “real lives,” so... Your fantasies have no room in this “real life.” It’s funny. I learned somethin’ “real” that evenin’. You say a word enough times it starts losin’ meanin’. They wanted me to wake up, but I preferred dreamin’. Conformity was a bitch that I never wanted to be with. So I told “I’m leavin’. Tired of your bull. So find yourself another meat head to sink your teeth in.”

It feels good up here, like... A kiss from your grandmother when you scrape your knees, or... Like, the last day of school and the summer breeze hits... Your nose, and it smells like freedom. Even Lady Liberty would envy 'im. It was given to me when I came here. So when I die, I'll be damned it's freedom I don't leave with. It feels good like... Excitement when you fall in love for the first time, or... Excitement I felt when I penned down my first rhyme. I'm tellin' you, I felt untouchable. Even the hands of fate couldn't clutch the dude. I'm one with my inner child, Even if you turned the lights down, homie I will still shine. Out with the old, in with new. Renew good feelings of the past. Blast those emotions to the future. It feels good up here, like... The boss at your dream job sayin' you're hired, or... Staring at a small child feeling inspired, to... Fight to make the world a safe place, like... It was when you were the same age, right? And you'll fight with no shield and no sword, And you'll make it work out no matter what transpires. It feels so good, like... Introducing yourself as her boyfriend, or... Introducing yourself as her husband. You might have fights, but they're over quick. You climb that hill and you get over it. Of course nobody's perfect, But imperfections are the things that you transcend.

Welcome to the rabbit hole, Alice. You might Frank there, devising his escape plan. Standing his ground 'till the soles of his feet callous. With hopes to turn his drab little castle into a palace. So he brings them cans of Whoop Ass! by the pallets. And uses the skulls of emcees as a chalice. Rappers better take their style home and polish it. I do more than paint pictures, I'm a graphic novelist. Frank Miller with it. Matter of fact, I'm Alan Moore with it. But it doesn't guarantee me more spinach. Yeah, the flow is Mel Gibson, and gets me good with critics. And yeah, the beats bring the ruckus like a noisy tenant. And yeah, I leave the mike smokin' any time I'm finished. But I can't find a way to pay my bills with it. My brother told me that this music stuff was kind of rough. And that it was for the birds, and frankly, I ain't fly enough. Who am I, Icarus? My flight is limitless. From the flow, to the rhymes, to the penmanship. My tongue is the brush Picasso painted pictures with. Bob Marley used my rhyme book to roll his spliffies with. My mama raised a fool. I wish I had this confidence when I was still in school I could've been graduated. Got myself a little job. Kept my little girlfriend, and things would have been cool. So now every Thanksgiving I got people talking to me like, “Frank, about your life, what you gonna do?” Well, I'm a stay grindin' like a WoW player. 'cause there's opportunities for me out thayur. If I limit myself to music, it damned foolish. I ain't just after fans, I'm tryin' to start a movement. I know it's typical to say my skill outer space. But to feel me, you'll probably need you some outer taste. Frank the Planet Eater. You think you're hurtin' this? Somebody probably got your ass gassed like Uranus. Rappers are Gas Giants. And their entourage hang like satellites tellin' them that they're the flyest. But the crowd got their pajamas on. You're John Travolta in Grease, I'm John Travolta in Phenomenon. Can't eat until Son is down like Ramadan. People hate without knowing me, Holy Qur'an. Luck is a cruel mistress. But I'm still determined to find her and give 'er the business. She'll be thinkin' I invented sex when I'm finished. I get 'er to my place? It's gonna get uglier Trey Songz's singin' face. Smash like your girl is mad, throwin' dinner plates. To roll in my shoes, you gonna need some bigger skates. To run with my crew, you gonna need a quicker pace. To do what I do, you're gonna need some bigger space. Homie, I'm a G. And I'm a pump crack until the masses O.D. I know my haters hearin' this is thinkin', “Oh, please!” But I keep it cooler than the suit on Mr. Freeze.

Who am I to judge though? I’m only flesh, right? Who am I to judge though? Why is my daddy sellin’ drugs though? Dude wanted quick-fast money. Buck-fifty in the fast lane, you gonna crash, dummy! But he would welcome death before he lived his life bummy. So mama pay for everything so he can feed her grandchild. It’s cool, but he can’t handle the hand-out. He’s like “I’m twenty years old, ma, I’m a man now. I ain’t gon’ be like my pussy father who stamped out. Especially when all these fiends got their hands out. Better that than me livin’ like a boy.” He talk grown, but now he’s schemin’ on a new toy. Speakin’ of irony, that pussy dad he spoke of. Is lookin’ mad familiar. He caught ‘im in the mirror. The drugs gon’ do it if the game don’t kill ya. Your wife is waitin’ on the day they run up in your crib. And they put you to sleep like babies. He push to back the poverty up off ‘im. And stay fresh to death without ever seein’ a coffin. He push to back the poverty up off ‘im. And stay fresh to death without ever seein’ a coffin. Mama over the coffin. Weezin’, “JESUS!” But who am I to judge though? I’m only flesh right? And who am I to judge though? Why does my nigga say he love ‘em though? And then turn around and break their little hearts. You think he would have told ‘em from the start. That he can’t quench their thirst when they start feelin’ parched. He treats fuckin’ and duckin’ ‘em like an art. Then he’s off into the sea to try to fish for more carp. So now his main girl is on the horn. Feedin’ me the blues like a Charlie Parker song. Tryin’ to find out what the hell she did wrong. I tell her she did nothin’. She figures that I’m lyin’. Because she can’t fathom other reasons than herself. As to why he’s out dickin’ down everybody else. Tried to help her out. Caught a big body bunny named Mercedes in the south. With so much junk in the trunk her things were spilling out. He’s salivatin’ at the mouth. Don’t do it! I told ‘im it was foolish. But he was too fired up for me to tell ‘im cool it. Don’t do it! I told ‘im it was foolish. But he was too fired up for me to tell ‘im cool it. Main girl called, said she had some crazy news. He got a baby on the way, and talkin’ ‘bout he can’t do it? Shit... Who am I to judge though? I’m only flesh right? Who am I to judge though? I’m only flesh right? I’m only flesh right? Yeah, I’m only flesh right?

She told me when the going gets tough my response is returning to the ether. I can't deny that. I tried to be a good sport, but I feel like God is booing from the bleachers. But I can't tell her that. They told me that the truth will set you free. But it seems it was a lie, all it does is sting. Yeah, that's right, the truth hurts. And that's all that it's good for. It goes for the heart, and pain killers can't take the edge off. I figure that's why she told my ass to step off. 'cause truth doesn't mean a happy ending. Lies treat reality just like a bag of sensi. Spark a flame and set the world a haze. Deceit makes sure you and yours maintains. The fraudulent existence that's gets you through the day. Skeletons are cool if they're stashed in the closet. Just make sure your conscience never cares to unlock it. You see deceit is the padding that keep you alive, when you fall off the edge. It's really no surprise that it works that way. Hey, tell me this. If I told you the truth, could you handle that shit? Or would it be too heavy for your tired hands to lift? See, I think the latter. When the truth is unveiled. Trust commits suicide, confidence is shattered. Dreams yellin' “Mayday!” and then plummets faster. Honesty is like a damn natural disaster. Hurricane Katrina's little bastard. I really hate to be such a downer. But every time I kick a little verity it seems like the plan backfires. Truth in an interview won't get you hired. Truth in your music doesn't get what you desire. Like, money, cars, clothes and fans that admire. Life would be easier if I was just a liar. Baby, I swear it wasn't me. Your girlfriends are crazy. That bitch is lyin'. That ain't my baby. Nah, honestly, it's cool. We'll get through it together. I'll never you lonely. My love will never let up. See, I was chillin' wit' the homies at the park. Shootin' ball. Nah, mama, I don't pump crack at all. Man I don't know it got there. It's not my gun. I'm a non-violent man, I ain't held a piece once. See, I can be your everything. I ain't never front. Girl, I'm here to get to know you, not to get your bones jumped. Look, you just have to trust me. See, if you tell anybody. Everybody's gonna blame you and not me. Well, all I want is honesty, I just want a good man. Sure looks are cool, but, what about beneath? Your friends don't judge you. Your ex still wants you. And no matter what, dude, God still loves you.

Tell me how this works out: You tell her the truth, and now she can't believe you. So much that she believes that you should see other people. You see, you figured there was no one that could play your role. But the director replaced you a long time ago. So you grab a sack and split a cigarillo. Or you grab a bottle of your pill of choice, no... Way that you can cope alone you're gonna need assistance. You really need a crutch. Got your emotions limpin'. There's always more in sea, but you're tired of fishin'. So you relax, and set down the gaff. Forget what happened yesterday, the past is the past. Forget what happened yesterday and hope the high last, it's the haze... Where reality's distorted and morphs into somethin' worth it... Where life is worth living in a world less perfect... Where the truth prevails and the ills never surface... And that's just how it works out... You find comfort in another's flesh. Hoping your mind will rest in the haze of sex. Or maybe you paint your pain on the canvas. Anything to get Dorothy out of Kansas. Whether you lost your job, or you're broken hearted. We all got something that'll give us departure. From the misery that plagues our existence. From the pain that harasses with persitence. From the fake ass friends that never listen. From the cries for attention and dismisses. From the tears, and most of all, from the past. Forget what happened yesterday and hope the high last, it's the haze...

Today I spoke to myself. I said, “Self!” (What up, Frank?) I think it's high time you tighten up your belt. 'cause your britches are too big for your waist. So brother won'cha make another notch post-haste. 'cause suckas only wanna eat the food on your plate. And I replied, “Well, Frank...” (What up, Self?) I don't wanna be so cynical to think. That thirsty niggas only come around to drink. I give the world my heart, and all I really want is thanks. I responded, “Look, Self...” (What up, Frank?) All I'm doin' is lookin' after your health. They say that you're their dog, but they only want your pelt. And when they finished with you hang your friendship on the shelf. Hangin' you up to dry along with everybody else. And I retorted, “Listen, Frank...” (What up, Self?) It's hard hard to open up when they are so closed off. 'Cause bein' honest feels like strippin' clothes off. Giving folks your bare naked soul to show off. But we'll be just fine. So when the sun rise. Never be afraid to step in the sunshine. Life is a game, you only play one time. So homie take a chance and crawl out of your mind. Again I spoke with myself. I said, “Frank!” (What's good, Self?) The world ain't as cruel as it appears. I know it's been difficult the last couple years. The strain of heartbreak and the ridicule of peers. Stress muddies up your vision so it's hard to see clear. I countered, “Well, Self.” (What's good, Frank?) There's a lot of risk when you give folks a chance. 'cause everybody seems real cool at first glance. But the truth is they be on that bullshit like a fly a cattle ranch. And that's when I responded, “Damn, Frank!” (What, Self?) They can't get close if you're pushin' them away. How can they stand you when you just shoot 'em down. And then you wonder why nobody wanna stick around. Do you know how you sound? But, Self, it seems so hard. I heard love was a battle field, and so I keep my guard. Because I'm getting tired of hidin' all of these scars. But if you really think opening up will get me far, I'm a...

If God allowed me to fit the world in my palm, and measure its worth. I'd cast the little blue ball across the universe, but... Gazing down upon it now brings comfort, And for the first time the little planet helps me wonder if... It can be rectified of all its blunders, or... Does it deserve to be torn asunder. Before the weight of our sins finally pulls us under. And we all drown in our iniquities. I figure me and Mother Earth could be enemies. Or I could work to put her in a state of sym·pho·ny. If we're out at war, I could give her in·ner peace. So when she's handing out pie, we'll get a big·ger piece. I sure hope so. 'cause no matter how mad I am, I still love her, though. And yeah we clash sometimes, but I love her with every bit of me. I'm feelin' homesick, I guess returning is the remedy. The remedy. The remedy. The remedy. Let's go. History taught me, That it speaks atrocities and is often forced to repeat them. 'Cause we forget that he had spoken in the first place. So when he opens his mouth, it hurts us in the worse way. When all he wanted to do was to teach them. About where we're going and how to get there. And most importantly to teach us 'bout ourselves. You can't move forward without reflecting back sometimes, To move up to heaven, you have to look down at your Hell. It's really funny how this all occurs to me right now. Far away from home. Way beyond the clouds. Nestled in the stars. I'm sorry I disavowed, The planet and my brethren that dwells there. I hope you feel me like the butterflies in my gut. And like a translator I hope that you understand. The universe is much bigger than I could comprehend. And it's got me feelin' homesicker, and returning's the elixer. Back from the new, return to what you know. Back from the new, return to what you know. Back from the new, return to what you know. Back from the new, return to what you know.