Back Then

Forehead drenched
Sweat pouring off me
Schweaty balls soak in my exhaust jeans
Spitting verses into pantyhose
Pulled over hankers
Absorbing my hard P's
In the closet
With egg cartons tacked on the wall
It's a crime that they charged me
Twenty dollars an hour to record raps
We spent more time rewinding the four track

I was just a young boy back then
Making big macs after school 'til half ten
Writing rhymes on a napkin
With a black pen
Then rap them into the spatula's flat end
A dreamеr
Sleepin' on the job
A rap star smelling like grillеd beef and condiments
Special sauce on an all sesame seed--
Aw naw, forget it
I'm sure you get the portrait painted

Underpaid and overworked
Ignoring homework
I'll finish it tomorrow morning
Tonight I'ma slip this Maxell in my walkman
And transcribe some songs
I dubbed off some college station
I raced home to listen to
A devoted listener
Like Ralphie in A Christmas Story
Sittin' in his living room
Listening to little Orphan Annie
Or in the back room with the door closed
On the toilet, playing with his decoder ring
"drink Oval-tine?"
All i needed was a poem and beat
To get the whole scene to notice me
I recorded what I thought was heat
But what I thought was far from the response I got
No props or multi-million dollar deals
No offers for a live appearance
No females throwing bras and g-strings
Or kids with sharpies wanting me
To scribble "D" on their Tees and CDs
Convinced 'Lost Sight' was a banger
Fuck the drawing board, I'm the illest in Canada

I was just a young boy back then
Thinking I could make an impact
In the rap game
Even though I had no chance in the fast lane
Damn, it all made sense
Back then