It's the dragon from the dust, comin' from crumbs
What's the opportunity for us? A product of guns
Always been a lost soldier, the prodigal son
Cough up a lung, where I'm from, it's the underworld tongue
We went from ashy to classy, dirty to clean
We went from two or three shots to a whole magazine
We went from Nike to Jordan, Jordan to Givenchy
Versace dinner plates while prayin' over hibachi
You know the circle's small, less is plentiful
To reach the pinnacle and fulfill the visual
My notepad is full of goods and bads, ups and double-downs
Loudmouth cannon, equip compression to humble sound
A ghostwriter with a hunger for facts, so don't collapse
I got a fetish for dumpin' the MAC (zazazazazazazaza)
Any intruders can get lost, so it's either pay homage or attention
Either way, all of my shit costs, rhyme boss
You can't build if your mind's lost
Maybe you need to chill and take some time off
It's a lot on my mental, the weight is heavy
I'ma grind 'til I'm crippled, my path is deadly
I'ma ride 'cause it's simple: I'm bout my fetti
I wish peace, so keep it simple
Keep a machete
I stay ready