[Verse 1]

My soul cold like the Pyrex, stashin' the work in the ceiling vent

Dog food jumpin’ like hydraulics, every brick got a fingerprint

Did ten toes on the pavement, ducked indictments and arraignments

Mama cried, I had stainless, now I ride with it — shameless

Young Kane with the flame, got game from the gangsters

Kilos in the camper, I was pitchin' out the banquet

DEA on the scanner, 4:45 in the pantry

Feds hit the door, I’m gone like I vanished from the canvas

[Verse 2]

Thirty in the Glock, that’s for paranoia and precision

Judge tried to box me, I boxed back with a vision

Ran it up from a sentence, now the Porsche got extensions

My shooter like Luka — step back, clean from a distance

Audemar cold, but the wrist still hot

Same plug from Medellín sendin' fish scale drops

Whole hood see me as the realest that did it

I ain’t rap, I’m a statute — every line’s convicted

[Verse 3]

Came out the belly of the beast, was a beast in the belly

Now I feast on these beats, Balenciagas lookin’ deadly

Got a hundred on the pendant, fifty more in the Chevy

Hollow tips like confetti, when they rain, it get heavy

I ain’t talkin’ aesthetics — this the essence of war

They ain’t never seen heaven, just the hell in my drawer

I’m a chef in the kitchen, got the Pyrex pure

Said I’d never be nothin’ — now I’m legend for sure

[Verse 4]

Razor blade dreams, cut the dope with aggression

Left my tears on the scale, made a deal with depression

But I made it out the trap, now the labels in recession

'Cause I drop one verse, and it feel like a confession

I’m the ghost of the gutter, I’m the echo of pain

Put my name on a list, I put a dent in the game

They was cappin’ for the camera, I was cappin’ the cane

When they talk about the real, better mention my name

[Verse 5]

Steel in my fist, this ain't rap, this resistance

My enemies whisper, I hear death in the distance

But I walk like a king through the flames of the district

Tattoos of the dead, I wear scars as my pigment

This for the ones in the yard, on the yard, tryna live

For the child with no father, but he know how to whip

From the alley to arenas, I was born in the mist

You can't kill what’s divine — I'm the son of the bricks