Lyrics:
surrounded by peers
That make me want to
Peel the skin away
So I could live in spirit
The Son shining but they shade Don't know to run away
Had to ask shorty
pessimistic
To know I'm gifted chasin' hood rat brownie
Points and bullshittin'
I dropped the four on 'em, scrapin'
Hopped a four on 'em
Grab my dick and pour
a deal to Taylor Gang
It's crazy, niggas will sell their soul to get the money and the fucking fame
These voices in my head, they keep on telling me, keep
fight of faith going round by round
All my praises going up, so His glory coming down (Ahh)
Not a carbon copy, You can hear the difference in my sound
like a knight no armor
You really want war with a psychotic self-harmer
My brain's plagued by hate, my soul is evil too
That's what you said, so without
on i-95
(When)
Right around the time
People left they 9 to 5
Except the work inside my ride
Drug traffic on the rise
(Watch out)
Rats still in disguise
and your friends
You're trapped with me and it never ends
I'm the original individual, true face of the fog
Handpicked by the Entity for my wicked prologue
nigga dyin' by a black nigga gun
And keep on listening to the frontin' ass rap niggas son
Yeah I said son
This is New York's finest
For 11 winters
slap box my ghost 'til one of us cry
Jae to the Won can niggas fuck around?
And they better say "nah" word to Allah
They dyin' down I got
snatch you, axe you
Play the squid-ad, we gettin' at you
And we don't wanna rap to you, it's not kosher
It's not a code in la costra nostra to roast ya
like a violin
Roaches, rats, fiends, and cops, that's our environment
I'm a slime, I wade to the top, that's my prerogative
It's no love, we drawin'
been gone internally
Externally in my body I glow
Practice the faith of God
And our souls will float
Reaching alight
With our Angels we all bleeding gold
couldn't be a chump
I lean on God, he really my crutch
Can't put a stain on his name, not a smudge
I put my heart and my soul in the Son
I gotta hustle
feel
When plane has departed
Raise to be heartless
By media making us seem like the artist
Are young and depressed
Got a lot on my chest
I can not
blinder
Into a winter that's more cold
By now you've probably figured out
The ghost is just my own reflection
In these lost hours of the night
Now why this man's soul was bleeding
The angel had to understand
So invisible, he stood by him
And then gently touched his hand
Which
the mirror
To see the ghost you've become
I'd rather die than live a life like yours
A blank bullet in my gun
Never question my soul
Or my values again
Never
toast
If you die and come back I shoot your spirit
Now your ass is just a holy ghost
You tried to play me to the left
You better put a target on your
gumbo
Yes, I will play for gumbo
It started at my Grandma's kitchen by the sea,
She warned me when she told me "son the first one's free"
It hit me
a cold habit
No stranger to being stabbed in the back by a gold dagger
Held by my own hand trying to be my own man, a cold wager
Don't be a pack rat, yo,
Father God please check my motives
I'm tryna be a leader like Moses
But bringing lost souls to the throne is tuff when you ain't even sure where you
rats
My son is missing some racks, and Louch is fitting to snap
She need to come up with answers, instead of fixing her Mac
Makeup, just give
everybody to my name again
(Woo)
Jessie, James, we don't play by the book
I might turn to Giovanni
How you Pokes gettin' took
Got me feelin' like I'm Brock
inside of me
Thunderstorm and lightning
Mjölnir will not hide
And all the giants will be destroyed by my godly might
Why do we fight
We will die in this
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