My old head who got some bodies
Nice dude, a little racist, Mahatma Gandhi
Told me to be more that I got a real chance
And it would be a true waste told him got you, copy
Came home to show him photos of Abu Dhabi
Just to find out he got popped by a cop who probably
Played ball with us back when the whole entire block got tsumani'd
Whelan was wailing, that shit optimized me
Now every move is sponsored by the 1990s
Ball courts, all sorts, you'd get dropped if you got too sloppy
Had to put it all down on paper before the brain got too foggy
I shoulda stopped 30 bars ago, worried Shah will say that I got too rhymy
Syke, this shit is life, we do not do hobbies
It's an obsession, craft with more pride than a profession
Loved ones died every line is a procession
Convey what's inside, every rhyme is a possession
I'm not the one driving or deciding the direction
I'm just the one abiding to the guidance of the session
Used to say that I was godless but I guess it's a lesson
I believe that when I'm spitting that I'm timeless and the essence
Is shining in the effort, putting diamonds in the message
And yet I hope that some are finding it offensive
But I'm just angry from the dying in the trenches
Don't worry we're f*cked then he signed it and sent it