Verse 1: Picture a vagrant, staggering, dragging a gas cylinder. Momma's dollar promise is all that's got him needing her. Potential flashes in glassy eyes, but the pupils fragmented. Prism makes you presume he's doomed to be a prisoner. I pity the fool, it's pitiful the way he digs the dump to keep the belly full and still make it livable. Leading dogs like a shepherd but anointed by hounds who stripped him of his dignity. Despicable, but speakable
For those trying to avoid this kinda life, loitering and robbing with the swish of a knife: That's what you been studying these late nights? You see the light you hide it, cuz crapaud tryna smoke your pipe
A job is oil for your sticky itchy fingers. You may feel it's easier to twitch a couple triggers. Hang around late night to do some hash slinging, but you won't even be missed when your funeral bells are ringing

Chorus: (How) can I live a life in a place discarding goals?
(I'm) So poor, I could sell the city my soul
(And now) it's up to a point where I don't even have a choice
(Just scowl) And give away your two cents when you hear my voice

Verse 2: For the blind to lead the blind, they buy bifocals then mark the wise as liars, so bye bye vocals
You scared of the hissing in the grass well I'ma (Rikki Tikki) Tack the habitat where these snakes lay their ovals
It's a small land what the fuck's a mogul? These ignorant fucks wouldn't care if you invented fire
Till you make the heat rise their eyes ogle. That's when they carry your name to spoil or admire
That's when they act like they spat through the wire witcha
It's easy to get hooked on a life quickly
They can crucify your rep with no worries
Even going far as to resurrecting stories
The fuck do I care about two homos in the Gardens?
Maybe thought it was Eden, so he sucked Steven
So what? God'll probably kick 'em out again
So why should I care about whichever dicks I offend?

[Hook]

Verse 3: I'm the guy that yells timber while I tinker with the chainsaw to cut through this goddamn jungle
Snakes patrol the grounds, the monkeys high on trees
Lions and tigers fighting about who makes it rumble
The red loggers are coming! You know the revolution
There's always a change designed to set you backwards
When you're planning your world order, your evolution
They lay you off the job cuz you don't meet their standards
Mama said I could be whatever that I wanted
Because my dreams were different, I went ahead and flaunted
The best way she knew to encourage was to spit on it. So ironic, you called "iconic" bullshit
These the kind of thoughts that make me restless, tear off my best vest, and cut off my bestest
Screwed by being born in this infectious land of no opportunities that got me helpless