“Why are expectations so high?” he begins. “Is it the bar I set, my arms outstretched, but I can’t reach? … I lose my grip like the flying trapeze, Into the dark I plummet …
“Always in search of the verse I haven’t spit yet, will this step just be another misstep?/
To tarnish whatever the legacy or love or respect I’ve garnered/
The ryhme has to be perfect, the delivery flawless/
And it always feels like I’m hitting the mark
Till I go sit in the car, listen and pick it apart
Like ‘This sh– is garbage”

Listen to the song below.