[Intro]
[Verse 1: Epic Laine]
Camping out on a tuft of green
Put cats through a gullotine
I see through smokescreens
Hit past the gut and leave
So it happened, I chose to be
More than I could ever be
Chasing a lot more than my dreams
That dank is all I need
I'm tarzan to the streets
I done left a paw print,and its hook, line and sinker
Don't call me up for weigh-ins, homies want a way in
I'm past that.. One take it like a lumber jack
And I'm zoning out, to another realm
Cause it gets cloudy where I'm in
Tryna shape shift, till it disappears
See if that grind will get you into a lear
I ain't slept in days,does that suprise you?
Might end up on a train track, facing the oncoming traffic, the game controls you
Deem it a paper cut
Yet wrists get slit in the dark
I'm taking nobodies word, it don't take much for facades to surface
Been poppin' like Memphis
Grizzlies out to get me
So I can't stay, I just imprint a stencil
Have these kats for breakfast, might give up the lentils
I'm stuck in a maze
Gotta dodge a couple rednecks on my way
Cause y'all tryna infiltrate my atelier
Weekly roster says I shouldn't be back for another year
They want my head on a platter right, I could feed em insight
Where the murder mic?
Where the murder mic?
No one fights fair
Moon steals its shine from the sun, yeah that's how I see it
Lets take one for the road, bet you couldn't even stomach this
That jalapeno, chile gordo, gets hazardous
Young, smug and troublesome
Smuggle me into the jungle scurry
Call dibs on it, my team be hungry for the cheese
Pa** me a nunchuck, let me fend off some beetles
They tryna get in on the action, but they be fictitious
On the prowl, no more starin' at the ceiling
I'm done with these n***as
Piranhas got more bite than them
Ain't nobody get a kick out of that, unless they wifen em
Match temperament.. swear I deserve a title man
Obliterate what's in my way, I'm hyphening
[Verse 2: Epic Laine]
So it's Code red on the morse code
I done seen more than I should see
Step on quicksand, go down a couple feet
No run-ins with the Apache, though we shelving tapestry
L-signs prove to be a landmine
Lose the hand me downs, they couldn't get you a dime
Addicted to slain, I should probably do some time
Now every photo shoot is more like mugshots
Girls posing with the trigger finger on their skulls
Never got used to it, I just scroll down
En-route to success,damn a n***a should'a known
More hate when flung cheques like a lazy chaperon
Suddenly y'all run laps, but don't finish marathons
Probably get dizzy just walking past Babylon
How you gon' turn the tables son? Got Lwadz to do that
Frikken turntable don
Breaking records, like I'm flashing out on autobahns
Get a whiff of this, box fresh croissants
Big tings a gwan, I swear I'm the realest man
[Outro]