Still here.
Still fed.

[Hook]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

Refueled, never stressed
Heavy steps, light chest
No resurrection
Just progress

[Verse 1]

I don’t need to snake, but rhymes do still rattle
Attack, never talking back, smacked with the taste of truth
I’m the flea on your back, that itch you can’t scratch

You escaping down the hatch, this was just a clash
That’s it — game, set, match
Broken back, watching the wins stack up
Losses rack up for you, still spitting the truth

No, don’t do that, let go of the lyrical noose
I’ll give you a time-out
Need another career route
Be wise or you’ll be foaming at the mouth

I reflect — still here, still up to my neck
With the things I can’t control
If the world was mine, I would have it all

You gotta learn to crawl before you walk
Then run, then fly
Still out here saying “never say die”

That’s right, I’m kind of goonie
They try to lock me up for acting all Looney Tooney
I just create Looney Tunes to bump to
When you’re having the blues

Here’s a clue to find your way through the dark
All you need is this lyrical spark
That ignites when I spit with my last dying breath

I’ve been breaking bad,
But I’m not cooking meth, bitch!

[Hook]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

Refueled, never stressed
Heavy steps, light chest
No resurrection
Just progress

[Verse 2]

So that’s life, as Sinatra would say
Line my years up and watch the rest fade away
Like the days of our youth, still spitting circles
Still living proof

That you don’t need to get famous to rap big and rap hard
I’d rather be myself than lose my mind behind bars

Gotta have some kind of grip on reality
Before the plane shifts and all that I’m facing
Is different versions of me

Dark shadows of twisted mind states
Disformed faces, looking around, not seeing these places
My words explore different realities
Misplaced words in another state of mind

Lines and bars not fitting in this time
Should be a crime
Not looking forward to another version of me
Deadly, grinning at me now, the room spinning with me

But you see, I defect that version of me
I bring the heat, words turn into gun
Leave you blind in a heap, learning to see what I see

Lyrical assassin when I’m holding this pen
It was divine intervention again
You wish you could create an invention
To go back to the start

But no time travel for you
Scratching at my cellar door
Leave you alone in the dark, Donnie
You don’t even get my lyrical spark.

[Hook – Final]

Refueled, never empty
Still fed, still steady
No rush, no envy
Prime time — ready

[Outro – Spoken]

No shortcuts.
Just time.

REFUELED

DeadM8