[Verse 1: Themba Ntaka]
Shrouded in the smoke of the Marlboro
Full of sorrow
Thinking about kissing Kate Barlow
She's teasing
But none of my family's grieving
Crows they chose to show as Doves to the funeral
Razor sharp remarks
Corrosive counterpart
But dropped all facades to get closer to God
To be vague
My style is that of the virgin page
To let your mind fill in as the verse gets laid
I spread love like the n***as of the Old City
Stop and smell the violets;
Look out the window you can see the riots
Tactician with a sewing pin as an acumen
They hide like the words of an acronym
The rules apply to the ball players and to those benched
They always have;
They've always been
I was pouring out beer thinking what spilled could fill a gla** cup
That would've had me f**ed up