only the good die rough
homies in the hood have tough ties
wrists cuffed in gold lacking its prismatic appeal
fashion how to ride the wave without an ocean
slaves to the potion addicted to it’s drips
fill my veins with conspirators
I have lies inside of me
but I will die an angel
cause when the reigns change hands
the beast dies first
never cursed to the verses of your past lives
there is no drug more pure than clarity
when right and wrong was a double entendre
communicated a dissonance to duality
sly peasants moan to support their guilty habits
an empty chalice grasped by calloused hands
cancer ridden epiphanies that maybe
this really isn’t your fault
the vault has been empty for too long
don’t take advice from any more fortune cookies