had to breathe on this for 10 minutes. I feel the fire
peace to The Ecstatic
original photography and art direction by NickyChulo
recorded and mixed by WASEEL at Basewood
Salvador Dalí Lama
But war plagues my semana
Take off your pajamas
when you wake up
Best be outfitted for drama
trouble, trouble shoot the process
bubble goose and conflict
i was 22 and a fucking wildling
disrespectful, brash and tardy
introspective talent haunts you, show it off
3 story homes Mondrian
colored
How do we get something on Bluff Creek Drive for my child’s mother?
Time passes, get wild hungry
but more calculated
in the droughts, in the sunny
watch the words that climb up out your dunce cap dunny
Adultery on life how?
We can’t afford to waste the time now
dont make him march with the mop for spring cleaning
read the book of matthew one time now you need Jesus
your trauma snuck up out your subconscious
now you seeing demons
now you scared of breathing
ego on auditoriums and a crematorium
he wanted always the gray delorean to fit the whores up in
on tour like meniscus for applause and nonfiction
the withdrawals from being a delinquint may still visit
fuck if they mourn you, will your newborns newborn remember?
sócrates aint write nothing but said everything
i don’t believe in violence but i don’t believe in cowardice
front stage with some poltergeists
chump change for a boulder of ice
a fulfilled life is worth the price
from pain we all emerge bright
you a desert, you the desert type
This is a circus
Everything promoted as valuable cause it’s worthless
Everyone is trying to be somebody with purpose
Miraculous like the first time you make a person
Soon as you get passionless, charge up
The reflection in the mirror leaves him starstruck
The contraceptive is a Wesson and a hedge fund
The impressions on the internets increase waving small guns
Doing walk ups
Leave the car running
Your favorite labels cutting dicks off for a small budget
Are you strong enough to wait until your vision matters?
Cause that $10,000 check might be your last one
I can’t give you advice like my past is prim
But dang
How do we last and outlast the sins? and laugh
Double back and own masters, splits
They’ll take your publishing before you get a chance to skim
the contracts with some sense
waving carrots, karats on plaques look dim
When you realize going platinums ain’t that glad of a win
When the m’s spent to get that M leaves you in a debt
with no clauses to repent
the albums you owe are 7, the first was overspent
Your family thinks you’re famous
your bank account overdrawn
The IRS at your door, the side piece needs Dior
The weed ain’t strong enough to numb confusion, ‘least it stalls
the stress from taking over, the pills, bottles and social media analytics
helping you maintain kismet on tour
in hopes that those rows are full
you opening up for YG and Big Sean
and hit the road
The venues hold 30,000 but when you perform it’s just for 40 people chilling
waiting for you to finish, bored
At least your homies back home
assume that you’re on
cause the flyer says your name small
Shit’ll make you nauseous going through the sacri
fices, my vicegrip on vices finally getting softer
I’ve had to purify my body, take the jewelry off it
my fingers haven’t healed for years holding onto
holding onto shiny things that makes fans raise their chins to witness
We ain’t gotta be equal but I’m not your father figure
We role models by default but pop bottles and speed Porsche
Fuck models for leisure and drop ponderous schemes off
This used to be dream
This used to be tough to hold onto, what a funny thing
Electrocute the population
They make us prostitutes, capitalists, plaintiffs
Never told you duck the paper just be wary of the stray bullets
Intended but nameless to the knowledge lacking players
Everyone doesn’t get $200 at Go
These great grandfathers owned Boardwalk, it’s inheritance
Double pump the shotty, had to double up at the Sheridan
My generation needs their passive asparagus so let’s balance shit
This rap game needs more challengers stepping up to challengers
Competition lacks now their standards get embarrassing
Borrowed Patek Phillips on your handheld cameras
35mm film captures disparaging
mad at the world
enlightenment although
glamorous the pearls
but less enticing its glows
once you meet your soulmate
you reach a higher plateau
this game is a pyramid
and life is on her period
violence getting intimate
everybody got a killer
everybody has many men who wanna see an end to them
everyone has problems making and keeping entenmanns of some sort
physical, social or spiritual
they’ll hire corporate litigations to get at you
at times we got emotional demonstrating our principles
at times was at the precipice of pontificating the point
too many a time was off the ledge and never made a noise
too many time a lack of father ain’t let you be a boy
rest in peace to hunter, now we all left filling the void
tried to unite my city, you still shitted on me
citizens that sneak diss me dress in dirty laundry
artists that never skimmed the discography put a box on me
Never box with me, tried to but then most ignore me
Can’t reach out to merge so far your arms get snapped out
Brothers hit my phone to work, i work to make it pan out
being honest, i’ve seen the end goal ‘fore it was mapped out
to be honest i’ve always known it’ll take a minute to cash out
to be honest i aint always have my perspective in order
500 emails to bloggers every song to get onward
and upward
learned to reach into my own cupboard
embrace the love that means something
hope the ISRC’s bring me my needs when you stream something
Can i make a couple gs a week or something
Or must every release feel like depleting substance
weakened numbers
Tough times we’ve had to jump around, bully through or sneak up under
Out the blue phone calls, worrisome emotive tones from mother
Many that give advice but rare is the sacrifice
It’s hard for me to listen if the lifestyle is too different
The devil tries to distract me with shortcuts and quick business
Catch me with the Askaripour brothers
Remapping the worlds standards with no carry on luggage
Ask for you the public fade like Michael Rappaport for rapping poor
Pluck you for hiding Babylon from us
Shit, we moving like Andy Warhol, Virgil Abloh
Humans as factories, entities, platforms
Multiple managers, directors, shooters, interns
Accountants, lawyers on retainer just to ensure
Make a billion and bring cheap housing to Skid Row
At least affordable, At léast I hope I do
make the most out of
24 hours
of course i saw the towers burn
of course we wanted power
of course
teach a course on
how we disrupted
from my own hands built our dynasty
and things got disgusting
when i was sleeping on the train
without even a single slice of pizza to my name
laughing through the pain
too proud to beg for change so instead we stole some things
my vanity let poison infiltrate my veins
regretted it and paid for it
gave it back and made more than it
yo, read your history and decoded calligraphy
if the tiff files ain’t Tiffany quality, can’t sit with me
every morning getting slapped with an epiphany
every war we lose battalions to mimickry
that weakens blood spiritually
these stars ain’t shit to me
this industry is iffy
your bars ain’t shit to me
your broad ain’t shit to me
your car ain’t shit to me
the devious ways you aim to evolve ain’t shit to me
your squad ain’t shit to me
fuck y’all
fuck who tries to control you with their baggage
we face problems on this side too but push advantage
i aint with the bling bling theory programming
do this for my Sing Sing homies reading pamphlets
do this for my Nostrand Ave hustlers ducking cameras
do this for my Eastern Philosophy pushing chanters
do this for lil shorty in the barrio with a camera
Tryna find the City of God before they capture him
Burn the library, plant a Starbucks and dismantle it
No more name drops, you thought of rarely
If ever, shots don’t miss never, they’re careful
Left me in the wild too long and ate the werewolf
Spoke his thoughts specifically, the verbiage’s the heirloom
Find courage to store when the nights get grim
Took the ice off the throat and shaved the ice off the rims
It’s 33 degrees below freezing before you stunt
You might think you’ve lost the battle to evil before you win
You might be misinformed and think winning is worth more
than the pain you felt that pushed you to knowledge and thus whirlwinds
by the time you blow, it’s easy to pack a show
Cause the past versions of yourself all fill up the front row
Death Row, spit it illy and perpetual
Rarely distracted by the sexual, my efforts known
Everything recorded in the sands of time set in stone
Everything physical is bound to crumble, bound to grow
yall assed out like a brazilian bikini
in Sao Paolo
Tryna predict the outro
Espíritu Santo puts la verdad in this mano
So this humano breaks through the crowds yo
Gimme a girl more J. Lo than Gwyneth Paltrow
Back when horses and donkeys outside the parties were car shows
I listened to my ancestor’s stories
About witches that eat babies and farmers that let glory slip
you seek wisdom or to never be incorrect?
if the aim isn’t purification, i’m at a disconnect
funny’s the mortal who thinks God fits into intellect
