Verse 1:
Runnin' empty, Godspeed in my veins, 12/31 was the original aim
What do it take to make a man a man again, with no new releases to show to a friend?
Slingin' guitars like an old bluesman
Surprised to find I had no new fans, but hey, even if my shit don't get played, I think I still made the personal grade; I almost wanted to abort the mission but my conscience never pulled a Roe vs. Wade
You've got hands to catch if you think I went soft
Now you're bringing out the big guns like Lara Croft
Strapped with the the burner, but killing people off won't compensate for the size of your frankfurter
Million dead, no Frank Turner
Can't talk shit and back it up with a murmur
I'm praying to the ghost of Michael that I'll moonwalk into stardom and I'm praying to the ghost of Prince that every girl will find me charming
I slid into the game like a serpent, the usurper, not the servant, fuck whatever claim you claimed to have to the throne, let's see who deserves it
I came here to make noise like an elephant clan, gotta stay thick-skinned like the elephant man
I demonstrate things I could do in my sleep, made the beat, wrote the heat, now they listen and weep
I could send a career to the basement like a function on Merrick
Or maybe that reference is too esoteric
Fuck that, on with the show, this is my storytime epic

Chorus:
I will repent for my failures
It's too late to talk me out of the game
Is it poison or elixir?
Or ambition that I am to blame?

Verse 2 (Ishidoe):
Who's dat who's dat cool cat?
Ishidoe, yeah guess who's back with
New raps stick to ya boom bap
Don't slack, your effort is lacking
I'm trapping on these riffs
I'm snapping in this bitch
Laughing at you feeble peasants
'Cause my power's limitless
Hoe fo' sho, I spit a rose gold flow for those who don’t know
I could attach a GoPro to you, and prove your life to be so-so
Got ya white tee dripping rojo
That Twitter beef looking more like froyo
You soft muthafuckas get flicked like yoyo
Arson on the track, hear dem sirens go wo-wo-wo
Ishidoe, yeah he oh so hot bitch
My flow come straight from the tropics
But I'm known to be a bit obnoxious
That's 'cause I be on my BKLYN/Bronx shit
This city on a new wave, they couldn't top this
Yungin stunning the game from his laptop desk
You’ve yet to unlock this skill of mine
I massacred the beat like it was Columbine '99
I’m knocking you to sleep…ketamine
You should've never peeked into this mind of mine
Im 19 on the grind with -KO and Kitt
If you sleep too long, you’ll come to find we running shit
Repeat chorus

Verse 3 (-KO):
On my birthday shit, woke up fine as fuck, finna get lit
Bag packed, liquor stashed on my way to class
Apple juice, pour it out, take a couple sips
Phone blown like glass, mad hot, hit my girl up for some b-day-...cake
Dad’s calling, “What it do? Yeah I’m great, how is you?”
"Son, last night, your brother was stabbed
Didn't hit you up faster, it looked pretty bad
He's stable in the hospital, don't be mad
I'm sorry, I didn't know how you'd react..."
Damn
Mind is racing, started spacing, gave my blessings, left him hanging
World is spinning, barely thinking
Head is pulsin', stomach sinking
Heart is aching, booze ain't helping
Knees are weakened and I’m praying
God I’m hoping that I’m dreaming, pinch myself, I hate this feeling, now I’m glancing at my phone and no one's calling so I’m saying
On my birthday shit
Every year, so concerned about what I might miss
Fuck the gram
Fuck a post
Fuck another rap diss
Miss my bro, miss my fam, and I’ll be pretty pissed if I get rich and you’re not here for the switch
You'd best survive this
All rights reserved © 2017 Kitt Flamer-Caldera, Asif Alli, Marko Read