Street lamp flickering,
I dwell where sanity decays,
Young cats sit on benches spitting lies for cheap praise.
Talk heavy 'bout hits that they never executed,
Never ran jewels, never stomped a fiend, mind polluted.
Seeking getbacks in a cold world, truth diluted,
Life is venomous, kid—it's strictly karma routed.
What you project reflects, so I elevate the mind,
Spark the vibe, sit back, let the intellect shine.
Shorties claim they don't need a man, but impact is real,
Retrace your steps in the dark before you clash with the steel.
Karma loops on the track like a vinyl spin back,
Shit, I gotta reclaim my throne, get my lick back.
Chasing dreams through the asphalt, laps on the track,
No detours, no switchbacks, no running back.
No running from the raw truth, facing the proof,
Whole squad silent till the static blows through the roof.
We nocturnal prophets guided by the moon's dial,
Sundials fade to black, night brings the trials.
When daylight dies, violence rises from the dark sound,
Gold teeth, crooked smiles, hello met with a scowl-frown.
Maintain a fortress stance, never lower your guard down,
One misstep turns a king into a lost crown.
Times getting so hard,
cats'll rob your freestyle,
Break a woman's left hand for gold, ruthless and vile.
Hit the ground bound, nowhere left to bow down,
You gotta fight back, kid—there's no running now.
There are parts of the heart left frozen—some even swollen,
The old stories are stolen,
Crack tucked in the colon.
Patrol cars rolling, body bags unchosen,
Life taken in the dark before the golden sunrise opens.