S-O-L: Don Artis Anthem

Shout out to Primo. Shout out to Mos Def. S-O-L.

Don Artis. S-O-S-O-S-O-S-O-L. Don Artis. Complexity from stress,

mess in my war chest. My brain files go on for miles,

the styles that I compile. Uh. I lyrically compromise from my assembly

line- That's right. Confined, trapped in lines, it age like a fine wine.

Define my existence in this lyrical realm. When released on a beat,

crown over my piece. Woo. I'm professor, director,

dean, deliver decisive decadence. And waves and paddies, haters from places