[Intro: Bronze Nazareth]
Uh, yeah, Tales from the Bronxside, [?], Motown, yeah, uh, RIP K7, one more, yeah, uh

[Verse 1: Bronze Nazareth]
I say a prayer to my Ruger 9
Hollow out the lead, n***a, that'll chew your spine
I'm not a killer but a threat is probably suicide
If you can make it in Detroit it's destiny that you survive
Lucifer tries, he tried a few times
Times is trying so I be trying different hybrids
Left gun rule thought those streets was dying
Until Joy Road made me reach for iron
I don't waffle it's authentic what I bleed when writing
Statues of my n***as dead they get struck by lightning
Sometimes a Quiet Ones the lion with the 9-iron
Just like my will I'll leave my rich thoughts for those conspiring
Talkin' to my brother years after he died, damn
The convo still ill, he asked me hit the firing pin
Meyer Lansky myelin in the hyena den
Your bitch a thot, I got a queen plus my two gems
You me too them my clips longer than Slim Jims
Everyday it's a funeral, don, the dim Brims
Hood bougie blowing top shelf off pop cans
Salute? I held him down while he was on the lam
We met like mobsters over Pantheon chops of lamb
Pussy dance and the lips swing
I was a wanted man, hundred grand instinct
Million-dollar plans or Sundown gettin' it
Grave thoughts, dope art, painting kilos
I'll never fold Davey Scatino
I was in Maine eating lobster, Cuttino Mobley
You cats don't get it, n***a- I'm holy
Jesus feet, Heaven's parolee
I swear I saw Kevin in the nosebleeds
[Verse 2: Boldy James]
I never understood why they called my dog Bronze a year? gold medallist, man
Welcome to the winner circle, baby
Sprouted from the blacktop
The concrete rose petal
It's me and Bronze some Olympian gold medalists (Yeah)
Type to tighten my belt, 'fore I beg for help
You know what they say, good dope sell itself
It's 227 Mafia, what else? (What?)
If the work ain't takin', we be done took his stripes
Take what from who? He must don't love his life (Uh)
Only thing a n***a ever took from me was advice
Blow so strong could cut it twice
Got the fiends still hooking the cable up with a butter knife
Thug life I'm still living it, streets built me
So even if I'm guilty I plead innocent
Feds lip reading is where it's getting interesting
Sick I came Big Creature, Harry and the Hendersons (Block Works)
Little House on the Prairie full of Indians
Import export from Marion to Michigan
Let's get it
Concreatures
What else?