Jul 2021
I wanted to be the next Escobar, ******* many hos, and tasting fancy cars,
And shopping at the mall, spend most of my time at the cornered bars,
There always stood, a drunk under his hood, in the midst of the hood,
I felt his pain, even saws his tears in the rain, all I'm thinking is about gains,
But at the same, time I'm confused mayne, this luxury fiend for fame,
Should I take this fantasy drug, and stick in my vein?, or should I embrace the pain?,
Only to be seduced, by the demons tryna hatch in my brains,
Cant stop the adrenaline strain, all across the board, it's all game,
I peep the Qtip scenario, it goes below four millenniums deep, as I creep,
To a pace that I cant be chased, everyday I see a a new face, from.the past,
I miss my old girl, she was the world, and all the others, who done passed on,
How can I be strong, when god is the author for what's wrong, satan's song,
Plays in many hearts of the strong, I'll just sit back and strike up another ****,
Entice my haters once I spit on, they say I'm tryna play a don, **** right son,
So why you hating, I'm living for the times of reasons, everyday is death season,
Dim souls losing the glow, I can feel they about to go, from the wind flow,
Hitting all four cardinals, direction use my mind as a weapon, stepping,
Over stones put, in front my life, found a new girl, soon to be my wife,
**** its soo much strife, people testing ya edge, with nerves of a knife,
I think about how the times used to be, before the love of money, roots hanging from the tree,
In the, garden of eden where the taste of knowledge was bleedin,
Before it got cut, open now we lost, what we used to believe in, nakedness from our eyes of sight seeing,
Third rail going braille, it's too much seeds of holy grail, that's when the real became a fairytale, never seen a cell,
I think about how, Malcolm transitioned from jail, and how Islam set him up to fail, pinned him as a donkey's tail,
Most folks ain't living well, art used to be beautiful, but now it's haunted,
Oh well, I see visions pass Orwell, too much dreaming got my mind, to swell,
I play the corners, like Angel's in the outfield, another body, on the killing fields,
Another reporter with a story fill, headlines detectives scrapping for crimes,
We burning in the end times, dead money dollars quarters nicks and dimes,
And shopping at the mall, spend most of my time at the cornered bars,
There always stood, a drunk under his hood, in the midst of the hood,
I felt his pain, even saws his tears in the rain, all I'm thinking is about gains,
But at the same, time I'm confused mayne, this luxury fiend for fame,
Should I take this fantasy drug, and stick in my vein?, or should I embrace the pain?,
Only to be seduced, by the demons tryna hatch in my brains,
Cant stop the adrenaline strain, all across the board, it's all game,
I peep the Qtip scenario, it goes below four millenniums deep, as I creep,
To a pace that I cant be chased, everyday I see a a new face, from.the past,
I miss my old girl, she was the world, and all the others, who done passed on,
How can I be strong, when god is the author for what's wrong, satan's song,
Plays in many hearts of the strong, I'll just sit back and strike up another ****,
Entice my haters once I spit on, they say I'm tryna play a don, **** right son,
So why you hating, I'm living for the times of reasons, everyday is death season,
Dim souls losing the glow, I can feel they about to go, from the wind flow,
Hitting all four cardinals, direction use my mind as a weapon, stepping,
Over stones put, in front my life, found a new girl, soon to be my wife,
**** its soo much strife, people testing ya edge, with nerves of a knife,
I think about how the times used to be, before the love of money, roots hanging from the tree,
In the, garden of eden where the taste of knowledge was bleedin,
Before it got cut, open now we lost, what we used to believe in, nakedness from our eyes of sight seeing,
Third rail going braille, it's too much seeds of holy grail, that's when the real became a fairytale, never seen a cell,
I think about how, Malcolm transitioned from jail, and how Islam set him up to fail, pinned him as a donkey's tail,
Most folks ain't living well, art used to be beautiful, but now it's haunted,
Oh well, I see visions pass Orwell, too much dreaming got my mind, to swell,
I play the corners, like Angel's in the outfield, another body, on the killing fields,
Another reporter with a story fill, headlines detectives scrapping for crimes,
We burning in the end times, dead money dollars quarters nicks and dimes,
