Through the lights cameras and action, glamour 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 the wisdom with the system that imprisoned my son
Smoke a gold leaf a whole heap, nonchalantly
I'm raunchy, the things I do is real it never haunts me
While, funny style nikkas roll in the pile
Rooster heads profile on a bus to Riker's Isle
Holding weed inside they p*ssy with they minds on the pretty things in life
Props is a true thug's wife
It's like a cycle, nikkas come home, some'll go in
Do a bullet, come back, do the same shyt again
From the womb to the tomb, presume the unpredictable
Guns salute life, rapidly, that's the ritual