The infectious feeling of hope,
Drowns the obvious
I'm confirming the books....
Turn the page for a vivid rhyme...
Mistaken crooked I's for a king...
Not a jab...
That's a haymaker to deface...
Disfigure my rage into paper planes...
Sometimes smoke rings...
Sometimes for the taste...
Love sound like God without hate...
But the God I know teach pain...
Allow me to explain...
The concept of the same to concentrate...
So concentrate...
On the train the wrong way...
We gang bang cos poor plays...
Will shift the line like an audible...
The game change from a fumble...
And you more worried if your numbers clean..
You...ol...dirty...
absence of another
poor mistake...na mean...


Bodega riots..
Gather round gather round....

The Piggies poppin gotta us dying...
Gather round gather round....

Fight sounds & sirens....
All around all around...

Strollin to my corner store...
Them forty ounces in my corner....stored....

There's fire in the metal click/
Smoke the pastor as I pull n hit/
Twelve feet /no matter how the ruler flips...
Cooler grind clips sound like pharrell beats/
Listening to punisher/
Breaking down murals/
With my cartoons and cereals/
Over Fanta/ leaves the soda shaken/
Foam top headlines the publisher/
And these middle earth yuppies feel they got the answers sway/
Universe black n white/
Sea world in orca/
Trapped in a tank/
Top cotton schwabs/
a wife beater chuck/
Sloppy Joe/
Punchlines filled with hate/
trump debates/
Cos/I've/got/nothing/.....to say/
You dorks still sippin kool aid/
On a Yachty wave/
Cherry braids and that’s the wave


Bodega riots..
Gather round gather round....

The Piggies poppin gotta us dying...
Gather round gather round....

Fight sounds & sirens....
All around all around...

Strollin to my corner store...
Them forty ounces in my corner....stored....