Heavy slayin on the forecast
Homicides getting broadcast
The home of Larry D
Big Pun
Gave me my format
I never glorify death unless it's during combat
We ain't made from the same stuff you notice the contrast don't cha
And I could blow a bag when I want to
I get it back by the double
You don't pay up I got the Mac in the duffle
Get it fresh out the gym nobody was shooting with me
Now I'm loopy rappers don't talk to me cuz I'm super gritty
They throwing stones at me plotting to get rid of me
Leaching off my ambiance
This eclipse is an axiom never blowing smoke
Unless it's medicinal roll a fronto
Mi and my gatos
You wish you had this fortunato
Loyalty lies by the ink
Betrayal makes my heart hurt
The Devils infiltrating wanna sex me for my art work
I body these, wannabe DaVinci's I am Basquiat
Higher Echelon, fly quarter mill in my carry on
Bitch
Killing all leaches, theses culture vultures, and clout chasers
F*ck the game up, how the came out with no house training
We did this for bragging rights, before the bag
An 8th of chem for the red eyes, an Adderall for the lag
Living without apologies breaking hearts and all policies
Kill the game, resuscitate it
Do it sub consciencesly
Honestly, product of my environment
Violently, guiding me
Towards the higher me
Provide all the things you try to be
Ironically, a war with me is consequential
Dying chronically
The game without me is unessential
So confide in me
As I thrive from my potential
But quit trying me
Pick your poison, you know I keep a variety
Like the mamis love the lingo
Me quiere for my Spanglish
One hit, she falls for the swindle
I'm a Dog, but I try to do what's best for my creed
Check the tag, I'm that last one left of my breed