I'm a Poor Man (But Rich In The Mind)

What's in a number anyways, except the data

Tired of this life been playing it since the beta

I found every glitch, found every niche that I belong to

I switch lives every time I find something fond, too

Mr smith, meet mr anderson

I reach into your soul and grab the numbers like you're rattling

Zeroes and ones, comes before the sun

Moon blanket greatness within the solar system, overloaded with patience

Every platelet in his space, this

Playground for insignificant recipients

I'm the dead reliving this, my chemicals have missed the point

Of euthinizing fingers with horizons on the joint

Index, I follow prints of my own

Leading circles into octagonal territory bleeding windex

I really shone, look at my skin

You can see the bone protruding through the words of my own

I'm a fucking bum mumbling, stumbling

Grungy looking, huddled in my own fantasies of getting shuttle-big

A little kid incapable of knowing my strength

Killing cats when I pet 'em, necks I never hear break

Without a george boy, I could use a lord, boy

I could use a hoard of bad rappers for a store toy

I abuse the instrument when striking a chord

Within a hall of board enthusiasts that's kissing the sword

There's nothing left but unexpected terrors in the crevice

Where your dreams go to die and my thoughts go to relish

In the high of loving mind singing it clear

I'm a poor man but got a fucking kingdom in here

Just remember that

I'm a poor man

You do best just to 'member that

I'm a poor man

What's in a name anyway, except the knowledge of your path

I got a stable full of labels built to distract the math

Vision is binary, but a lot of cats

Like to chinstrap the future with the past cause it's that scary

I see fear as a ceiling for the universe

But when it rains it pours me a bath full of lathered verse

I laugh it hurts, but what you consider pain

Is stimulating game to see if I can really reign

As commander, of covering the center of domain

In my universe it's never really simple on this plane

But twenty long years have prepared me

I act like I travel light but I got a big bag to carry

So here lies unexpected terrors in the crevice

Where your dreams go to die and my thoughts go to relish

In the high of loving-minded singing it clear

I'm a poor man but got a fucking kingdom in here