Turns out it was mostly a lie. But, at least for a short while, it was a beautiful one.
Well I'm a sire, I set the microphone on fire, Rap styles vary, and carry like Mariah
Don't talk the talk, if you can't walk the walk, Phony niggaz are outlined in chalk
I bomb atomically, Socrates' philosophies and hypotheses Can't define how I be dropping these mockeries. Lyrically perform armed robbery, Flee with the lottery, possibly they spotted me.
But as the world turns I learned life is Hell Living in the world, no different from a cell
I move through the third world, my third eye's the guiding light Invite the fight, we all die tonight
I smoke on the mic like Smokin' Joe Frazier, The hell raiser, raisin' hell with the flavor.
The road you travel might horribly get narrower; do not panic! Keep your spirits high; the road will get wider!
Diseases of the soul are more dangerous and more numerous than those of the body.
After the kids are asleep you … well, you know. Whatever it is. You slip away for a night.
Robin Williams was the kind of generous person who would do things but not want to receive public credit for it.