[Verse 1: CRIMSON]
When the moon was high, traveled to Rosewood/ saw me a burning cross, couple white ridden hoods/ couple of dead bodies burning on top of rugged wood/ many nooses swinging above me as eerie it stood/ I looked at the ground, saw me some golden ropes/ diamond flooded Jesus, and the blood of Sierra Leone/ heard the cry of a slave, and the cry of a servant/ cry of a child rebel soldier, nursing jewel, like its urgent/ then an overseer grabbed me up, looking vexed, and said "this for your disrespect" felt a lash crashing against my chest/ one of them chains he was hiding behind his back/ in his back pocket a couple of pens and a record contract/ optical blank whites.. Set of horns on his head/ skin was a faded yellow and hand coarse like a lead/ drove in an Audi and said "this could've been yours"/ "instead you choosing to die" I said I'm choosing to open doors/ we the ones who do the best but die the most/ culture influence, quiet as kept man we the goat/ but they got us running from pigs and dodging a roast/ high tides on the coast, keep the onyx bods tied to a float/ then these niggas ask, Josh why you so silent, chosen people, victim of violence, any thoughts on this nonsense/ see that's yah biggest problem.. Too many niggas who talk about it and don't be about it, we still is routed/ subject-ivity lessen the sensitivity now it's/ some broken bottles, bullets and burning houses.. Bull shit/ across the thousands of acres that make.. This.. Kind of pulpit/ for every side to decide to who is right or right.. Or we pull it/ slow down.. Catch accountability bro, or go down.. Nose dive to the hide or rise to throw down/ yeah they put us in position, to keep all of us here, but listen.. We break it, been a long intermission/
[Verse 2: CRIMSON]
Pussy calling so I call it back (word).. Yeah.. I call it back/ knock a boot, then I'm out it dude, such a sneak attack/ funny niggas, supply the fade for the pussy fast/ watch him dash for the future, dead... While my diamond dance/ what a time it is, what a time it is/ running from something I.. Wouldn't touch, what a lie this is.. positive/ what inside of these walls got us feeling heavy withdrawals/..side this is, what a kind of a hurricon (hurricaine) of a mind this is/ been about my paper.. Fighting for freedom.. we noticed now what a slave they made us/ been in chains see I been a mayne, who would cop a digit, then by the fall.. Done forgot her name, tho the thought of our wild exchange, minimize the pain/ devil over my shoulder, dirtied my only wings/ for the lust of Madonna's polishing finer things/ but a lot of us kids running as I, saw the blue move from a sky/ so we pray to many bottles of gin/ indigo almost went jail.. Lucas on the low, even with music.. I tell him to repeat is to grow/ from the gravel but Where did all of them seeds go?/ not enough to inspire two.. Not to mention 4/ equalizer, we even higher, the shame.. Imagine God in a range, he poppin shots up out of the door/ bullets falling, we call it blessings that feed the poor/ cure the sick, and console the lonely, holy rapport/ naked priests and some lil children bodied, in the churches lobby/ man go tell the my city, send em to crucify me/ call up AOC, brother Danny, and elder Nasi/ son allow me to murder, catch it on paparazzi/ Real friends
