Everyday caught in the whirlwinds
Back in the studio, belief just hurled in Still tryna get my pen on, write scripts, and light spliffs
‘Til we high as light bills
Watching for those that might switch
To the dark. We over here, remaining righteous
Though we spark the sole purpose to spit and hype kids
Make them want to hold open their eye lids
Dangers and missed origins from way back since
The presence of Genesis and Osirus
Life is such a stress
But in the coldest storms I let them off in the Phoenix
Make ‘em want to hold open they eyelids
Dangers and missed origins from way back since
The presence of Genesis and Osirus. Life is such a stress
But in the coldest storms, I let ‘em off in the phoenix
Over a thousand miles of public housing
Lounging on beaches in the Riviera, tan and doused in coconut scented lotion
Wish I was there. The story rare enough to merit an endangered species
Tagging velvet ropes surrounding every path
I’m tighter than some virgin’s pussy. Don’t ever push me I balance on the edge of cliffs for fun and some are hanging crooked
I never look down—I look to the sky
And envision the place where everybody go when they die
They say that bright lights and angels come and get you
If that’s the truth, then I expect the black night blocking the sun—I got issues
Another day with myself, another day without wealth
There’s gotta be another way—I need help
And so I pray like I’m a Pentecostal, Sufi, Buddhist, strict agnostic
Hoping one will hit its target. Take another sip of hypnotic
And lay my head on the pillow and dream erotic scenes
Of killers spilling endless rounds and all of them shooting at me You know Can Ox got that Phoenix wing span
And love hovering over the ghetto wasteland
I got rap just as fat as my waistband
You got a rap that belongs in a waste can
Yo, Jean you gotta change Grae to Hackman
‘Cause when we fight, we swing them blades
And when we rap, we swing them blades
And then we slide on ‘em like the escapades
I knew the end of this book since the first page
Rap sucks, but we still get paid
We smokin' trees of the highest grades
I spit a line that’ll fix your fades
So don’t go there—you cannot hold Aire
Look at them reaching and shit
If you touch my jersey, I’ll bust your lip
Open your face then break your hip