Moons ago, I chose to grab the mic and lose control--
A ruthless soul- who draws the heat and pulls the chrome--
I stand alone- amongst those with gimmicks who brag an boast--
Like the pastor who grabs the cash and goes, institutional drones..
That sell a dream thats sold to those who bought the dream and choked--
These rap fiends who grope- on pipe dreams to flood the streets with coke--
I drop the seeds to grow- the type of rhyme that puts the need to flow--
Ya herbs need to know- just the way I lay the cherry on top of domes-
Thats the footnote- sudden shots displayed from the way my gun poses--
Crafty notions- the shells in my gauge are dumped in larger doses--
Thats the motive- like steppin in the trap I'll show you where the stove is--
Thats where the dope is- where moments trifled from treacherous minds--
A treacherous grind caught in a vessel that binds--
Our potential to find- extract our moments to shine--
Inspired a purpose to rhyme- impact a percentage of lives--
My fuckin moment in time- drop every fuckin token of mine--
Gamble every moment in life- pass the truth before the moment I die--
My definition to try- fight to reach to those who fell behind--
This fuckin passion inside- a mixture of dro and Hennessy combined--
Just a way of mine- pieces kept on tablets from writings Ive crafted..
Truth Ive practiced- grip the chalice, always keep a group of lads to chat with--
My bars are lavished with weight from sheets thats massive--
Play a beat thats crafted- to wreck on those for rappin--
Always been hard- I never hold that weak shit, a weak spit meant for weak kids--
Fiends need this- the kind of verse that shows ya weakness--
phhff...


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