Through the lights, cameras, and action, glamor, glitters, and gold
I unfold the scroll, plant seeds to stampede the globe
When I'm deceased, by then the beast arise like yeast
To conquer peace, leaving savages to roam in the streets
Live on the run, police paying me to give in my gun
Trick my wisdom with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf, I hold heat nonchalantly
I'm raunchy, but things I do is real, it never haunts me, while
Funny style niggas roll in the pile
Rooster-heads profile on the bus to Rikers Isle
Holding weed inside they pussy with they minds on the pretty things in life
Props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, niggas come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shit again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life rapidly, that's the ritual