Conflict lyrics

I would rather be
Who I'd rather be
What I would rather be...

I conflict with those who are tricked
By the gimmick market and can't think with logic
Logic!
They're in the distance when I begin to pop lip (hip)
Poppers asking why does this kid does talk sh*t
Just I'm never breaking even so I'm throwing art fit
Sick of rappers saying "fresh!"
But stink like armpit
And couldn't test a single member that's within our clique
I bring it to you right now, but you don't really want it
Unwarranted, salsa make your heart skip
If you rolled as much as you told you'd get carsick
Accosted by pistol forty audience at your concert
Sitting in the front row
Getting wet by what they all spit
I'll be standing in the back hitting you with a tall stick
I could join your ass and still you're not slick
When in over your fan base
Make them say "aw sh*t!"
Right in your damn face
Confidence: you lost it

Now these super thuggy dungs say
"Bring that hard sh*t"
In a conflict
Simple simon Simon Says to sing the pop hit
In a conflict
Corny white boys just want jokes, this isn't a comic strip
In a conflict
Still I bring a conflict, that sting of conflict
I'm in a conflict
I'd rather be artistic

Painting pictures with my words while freaking a topic
Your broad strokes are filled with lead
So what you're eating's toxic
But this poison is self-destruction, you're feeling
Stop it!
Taking more than god's name in vain
Making your beating heart quit
Push you on the floor, then pull the carpet
Out from under your feet, then watch you drop quick
Flying through the airwaves, hit you with a dropkick
On the WWF raw is war tip
Run up in your crib and watch that horse strip
Playing healthy mind games to keep her thoughts sick
The plot is not the only thing that thickens in this porn flick
Once I'm done when her, you really think she wants your di*k?
That's not how I'd rather be
This is not who I would rather be
That's not how I'd rather be

I am not lit
Hitting on some club hopping bot chick
Start to flit, name-dropping on a superstar trip
Only for the sake of seeing her jump on the jock quick
Simply get that c*ck trick spit what your mom drink
Now, back to these bast*rds who claim they got grip
Take the finger off your safety and let the Glock click
Aim for the back of my fist, make it your target
Stigmata
I let the blood from my palms drip
I've got a cold of socials in the arctic
Single-handedly rip through your family
Make it look like a mob hit
Better stiffing if your biscuit got limp
I go down head down like Fred Durst
For a hot lick of this lolly pop stick
Sick of suckers thinking they can rock it
Hip hop rip offs over a good tall lick
That little b*tch'll slit her wrist
With this good tar pick
I stick to my convictions
That don't make me a convict
I compliment only those who deserve the props, prick
Never tried the chronic, chocolate tired tonic
Not your normal human assuming a bionic
About to blow up, listen to my inner time-bomb tick