[Verse 1: Elucid]

Ex-hustler returning home looking for skin fades on credit

No second chances to make first impression

Previously invested in death to the fifteen year stretch

Mark new progression, blessings, feeling almost extraterrestrial

Stranger in a foreign land once called home

Still cynic with a familiar essence

Fresh eyes with a outdated frame of reference

Trying not to stress it, somewhere down the line

Shift flip [?] fuzzy head trip

Placed under further review, lens corrective

Grand conspiracy suggested, anger projected

All valid points connected, nest egg stash

[?] frustration when he left it

Without valid identification

Even the most noble of servants turn desperate

Under-qualified slash body record

Raw deal most resort to draw steel

Steel saw pus infected, Goliath efforts

Walk the line on shore where first step led

A changed man, callous hands stack brick

By brick thicks, hire three-dollar Mexican on some shit

No disrespect intended, just authentic tension

Everybody need a dollar, forty-seven years old

Can’t stand to live with my mama

Chipping in on the phone bill

But I ain’t trying to burden y’all with my problems

[Verse 2: Billy Woods]

Riding dirty, Tour de France

Flat feet nimble, we do our dance

Get caught with all them plants?

You got a Chinaman’s chance

Shit-eating grin comin' out the opium den

Show em my hands

Vice squad, cattle prod

Night stick, closed fist

They kept it analog

Tactical narcotics left the township battle scarred

Up close, I can smell lard and firehoses

Avoid the station house Wonder Showzen

Don’t get your people chosen like rollcall in boullevard

The great wide open, die for what you believe in?

Didn’t have the guts, I was on the first thing smoking

Kilimanjaro snow on conjugal flows, Nigerian email

You already know, layovers in Lagos

Attaché case cuffed to the wrists

I got a message for Smokey and you ain’t him

*motherfucker, I said gimme the message*

They ol' piney was too smart by half

In response, tipped his hat and raised the glass

Rombo in Africa, I blaze the path

Bono in Africa, I need his math

Woods proudly pimping where the water ain’t fit for drinking

White slavery aspirations?

Hit Charlize Theron, Spear of the Nation

You thought not?

What nigga don’t got a little Bigger Thomas in his brain box

I ate rocks, sipped ashes

She beg for the whip and call me massa