[Verse]
N***a I still make wave even when I'm about to wade whenever the high fades
Next Vice to the face to transcend to a higher plane
Purple haze for inspiration
Channel Hendrix's elation
And maybe the Layman's brood on the occasion
Though it's hard to sleep when your soul is awakened
And it gets hard to keep being complacent while your fate awaits you
Third pupil dilated, black as coma
Articles rancid aroma
Adco-Tussend in my soda
Renaissance children, they don't know us
'til we sipping and tripping pillaging foes homes through skills honed from chrome masks
With three eyes half-closed
But this pen-game bloodclot robust, innit
Triple distilled
Thoughts of ill will spilled against the industry n***as who quick to claim trill with nill spirit invested
With vocals and instruments acting on playlists like medicine
While I conduit my seed down the gullets of critics when they request it
Guess it's only right for a villain to kill it, bitch

[Outro]