[Verse]

Can't you tell my pockets smell like copper?

Good don't always mean proper

Coins rattle like a quiet prayer

Strands of synthetic hair scrawled across the underground

Some tracks are never found

Leave the scalp and scatter with the rats

And instead bring the block back a platter

Not just the scraps instead

Seven Eastern got me perhaps mislead, trust the

Back of my hand for the maps misread, lead myself into the belly of thе beast

Hoping I could take a seat

Now thе hustle took away all that's free

Emptied my pouch of all that's me

Got coins, but I prefer the change

Got cash and thought I'd prefer the range

But in exchange what you're ready to exchange

A couple mill' will only buy you a bigger cage

Turn your pain into diamonds

Lower your standards and horizons

So enlighten

Now it's heads or tails

Fly or fail

But we keep our eyes bound tight so we can hardly tell