Through all the lights cameras, action, glamour, glitter and gold, I unfold the scroll, And plant seeds to stampede the globe, When I'm deceased, By then the beast will rise like yeast, To conquer peace, Leaving savages, To roam in the street, Live on the run, Police paying me to give in my gun, Trick my wisdom with the system that imprisoned my sun, Smoke a gold leaf, I hold heat nonchalantly, I'm grungy but things I do is real, It never haunts me, While funny style niggas role in the pile, Rooster heads profile, On a bus to Rykers Isel, Weed inside they pussy, But they mind on the pretty things in life, Props is a true thugs wife, It's like a cycle, Some will go in, Do a bullet, Go back, Do the same shit again, From the womb to the tomb, Presume the unpredictable, Guns salute life, Rapidly, Thats the ritual.
late night, i would write see the world through my composition, thirsty stay strong in the face of adversity now my rhymes took me further than i imagined torin, atlanta, sicily, manhattan, staten island right back to the valley just to show em how we do in central cali, my home on the map now, they tell me sit in the throne i tell em i'm not concerned with the crown or the robe just wanted to meet the world, become a man on my own and i did, now the name's household, santiago CA get hot, as i ran i hit Chicago it's the heart that guides me, my mind just follows i go where the wind takes me samsonite bag full of clothes like jack hit the road to the next city fuck it, let's travel the globe luggage already packed, who knows when i'll be back
