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Vanity, I love you for myself |
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Me and always you and always never no one else |
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Sanity, a visage of my wealth |
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Lost but always found before the idols that I've knelt |
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Strategy, the only way to cry |
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Keep it do or die, and always think in terms of "I" |
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Reverie, some legends future's past |
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Revelry instead for it renders hella fast |
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Capital, a sound that's on the rise |
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It's slaking unrealized until essence has been razed |
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Sepulcher, a stage enlived by ghosts |
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Floating off with bags of the blood-encrusted dough |
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?, for simple it is him |
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It's black and feeling pedalistic catastrophic hymn |
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Darkness, the light that flashed the dead |
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Keep them stellar layers, to which my kind is the heirs |
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?, the jesters game of vice |
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The cries incorporates slaying door and heist |
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I just walked around and walked around |
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They just watching down, they watching down |
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What they talking about, they talking about |
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Don't you copin' out, don't copin' out |
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From a cold clod cut in a deep zone |
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A sunken ship with the ghost on |
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They put my seat in there, upon a plaza |
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Under the chair hot, tucked in a dope spot |
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So the chrome tire screech every time we hit |
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We converse in ancient languages |
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If you come to see us this is what you get |
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Specialist, equipped for the long trip |
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And my jacket fits and I'm packing it |
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So miraculous, kinda statuesque |
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Legends carry like a killer's nerves |
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One picture worth a thousand swerves |
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Facts stated to enhance what is pre-born |
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With the white whale on the Pequod |
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And finds a way fast when the road curve |
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It's a sea saw, shall I go, shall I go |
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Look at me fall, did I know, did I know |
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On a gilded wing, driving filthy rings |
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Go back, go back, this your go back |
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Yeah you say cool, but it's an old act |
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Shall we raise a drink? What the fuck you think? |
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The home where angels sing |
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And my favorite color brown with pink taint |
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I believe to own is he, I'mma hold the chrome, a tight grip |
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They might trip, boy, 'cause the way I talk shit get it joy |
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Them just walking around, them walking around |
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They just watching down, they watching down |
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What they talking about, they talking about |
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Ain't no copping out, no copping out |
