[Verse 1: Sick Jacken]
Street kid royalty, kings cause the loyalty
Don’t rat, don’t dime, reap what the spoils be
Hoping that the cops and the feds keep ignoring me
If they ask questions you can bet that’s when my lawyer be
Small minds checkmate, the pigs trying to get him and arrest ?
Pharmaceuticals to get my head straight
My mind open, psycho when I put the coke in
That’s why I sound a little strange when my words are spoken
Laws are broken by the token crime often
Nine times out of dimes rat chime with the square motion
And so the game’s changed from shooty range
To shooty ? to feds to paperwork that’s full of names
That’s why I’m on a solo tip cause the one-sided gun don’t flip
That’s just my new shit, though the concept of my crimey is behind me
You can still find me in the presence of a sick army

[Hook]
Do I gotta play the role just to be liked?
Get yours, I’mma get mine
That’s why I write the shit I write in my raps
You know how we think, I’mma get mine
Rap, hip hop, underground, mainstream
Get yours, I’mma get mine
That’s why I write the shit I write my raps
You know how we think, I’mma get mine

[Verse 2: Slaine]
I paint a picture of the streets, heroin fiends and thieves
With rotted teeth in the alleys when they spotted police
I’m the rowdy cry of addiction and the voice of despair
Like the hope that burns inside em, put the noise in his ear
Like beside him full of poison with his boys out of lock up
Riding beside him, riding and dying hard in the iron
I’m the poster child for white America gone wrong
Before you figure me out I’m long gone
They call me Slaine cause I speak through the dying eyes of a wise soul
That cries cold through each story that I’ve told
Crafted in my fabric, I’m not just rapping to music
Apparently what’s happened: I have captured a movement
Splashing the absolute juice through intrusive truths
I’m the old fashioned new sense of a nuisance’s noose
They’re calling out for help from the heart of the youthless youth
That’s what happens when you stop just doing you for you

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Sabac Red
I’m all about the people and progression, porn flicks and politics
A lot of it’s ironic, got a long list of followers
With silencers attached, they shoot up the house
It’s pure chaos like the cover of The Future Is Now
My goons move in a crowd keep it under control
Then BP your bitch, feed her things and plug up her holes
At my shows grown folks throw their sets in the air
I’ve been with fans smoke boges, drink Mexican beer
Al-Jahir, Al-Jihad, do you believe in the god?
I’m aware I strand somewhere between the seas and the stars
Police in their cars playing games of evens and odds
And creep in the yard, now you leaving bleeding with scars
I speak these bars to escape it, fuck the fake shit
I hate it, I wanna shapeshift that digging in a crate shit
My patience and kindness turned hatred to violence
I pray for the day we read sacred environments

[Hook]