Cause I'm breathing underwater, where there's no one, no one, nowhereCause I'm breathing underwater, where there's no one, no one, nowhereHold tight to my pen now, every day we wake upJust to sell our souls out, or get stressed in all timeCities on hellfire, blew out every light bulbWhat was that I wished for?Was it just a nightmare, my birthday, my funeral?Did I die for nothing, instead of living for something?Uneducated chit-chat, teddy bear terroristIn the hands of our kids, it's where the track isMusic goes three, so it's so powerfulAin't no second guessing, maybe you know the differenceBetween just being alive and justlivingSo lay out my demo, so put me in a limoI'm a P-I-N-P, preaching in my poetryBreathing underwater, beat the sun tomorrowListen quietly, feels like they all laughing at meWhen the writing gets rough, when the writing gets roughCause I'm breathing underwater, where there's no one, no one, nowhereVendiendo mis palabras, el negocio está feoA veces ya ni escribo, a veces ya ni creoLe pongo a mi raíz, es un corte europeoNo importa donde estoy, ahí me llaman extranjeroSi fallo aquí yo sigo, fijo en mi caminoEn guerra con mi lápiz, así me siento vivoTrabajo como loco, por cosas que dan pocoRespiro bajo el agua, pero en aire me sofocoBreathing underwaterBeat the sun tomorrowListen quietly, feels like they all laughing at meWhen the writing gets rough, when the writing gets roughCause I'm breathing underwater, where there's no one, no one, nowhereMy pieces fall into piecesI'm cutting my lossesCutting my leashesFrom the hypocrites, doubters, locusts and leechesMoney can't buy happiness, at least I can lease itI'm not being facetious when I say I need JesusHow can we follow leaders when we've got such hollow leaders?I'm focused on the game, can't hear them booing from the bleachersI'm focused on the game, can't even hear the cheerleadersI'm focused on the game more than I'm focused on the fameAnd I got that type of focus, turn my focus into flamesI got the style for Moses, hocus pocus ain't the sameI got the style for Moses, hocus pocus ain't the sameAnd if I am the Pharaoh, I can not end in my laneHow can I spit too deep?I got millions of ancestors deep in the AtlanticFrom when the slave traders cameAnd they still speaking through my veinsSo when I'm breathing underwater, y'all saw that I was insane