Scum

(album: If There's A Hell Below - 2014)

Random, random, push till they fall back
Grabbing the ball back, while I'm grabbing the hard hat
Hard act to follow, we the hard pill to swallow
You cotton that sit in an aspirin bottle
Random Axe smash the throttle, grew up where's ice cold
Where niggas gamble with their life like a dice bowl
This ain't a light show, but you see them red blues
Flashing on the tittie screen, Channel 7 news
Where those lil dudes reach for rugers
Never surf the internet, never own computers
You know the name, don't know the face, then he the mover
Whoever's quietest in the room, then he the shooter
The old heads don't understand, asking how come?
We don't think like Martin, Malcolm was the outcome
Any means nece-ssary yeah, where I'm from
While I had pops, most grew up without one
All they had was drugs, where the street wars met
Walking out everyday, with the Devil on yo doorstep
Sitting on your porch in the post
This the city limit, where you see they have no remorse at

It's gone, gone, outta the slum
Bang bang put it in the air
Bang bang, feel it over here, over there
Bang bang, don't nobody care what you had

Meanwhile, we find Sean P on the toilet rolling a spliff
Fuck is on his mind?

Four fifth for your face
And yo faculty fuck boys, forfeit in your face
Shitting, watching, you sitting on grapes
Pre-payed, premeditated and murdered the aim, P!
Aching yo kimfolks, a.k.a. the ape in the window
A trafficking [?]
A Budweiser African king poster
I'm doing my damn thing
Them niggas claim king but ain't doing a damn thing
That's my word to my moms
I neva heard no one of ya songs: "Fuck outta here!"
And I don't dislike you
I disliked the dude that said I disliked you
Long kiss, long fist, bitch, goodbye
Can't fuck with P, new fish to fry, P!

Time like here, I wasn't playing
This not for declaration, [?]
If they ain't there with me, they gotta come right
The got [?] something

Once again, it's Mr. I-Am-Not-Yo-Friend
From the city where it's commonly a tragic end
They mad again, squeezing what they hold to leave a hole in you
Half ass niggas are half again
Mashing it, American shit, keep yo foreign cars
They still like they war and odds
They got help waiting
Two pretty heaters, they named 'em both: Dropper-Dead-Gorgeous and Breath-Taking
You'd rather check Satan, inhale while he inhales powder
Softwhite, they put it down in the lab like Walt White
Soft fights is what they give em
Talking working on their off nights
The bar's tight, they sending nears off on sight, overnight
The fairput cats on your overbite
Sweetcats, I know your life
Burbon cats, I know your wife
Poet night, shake a house, no Poltergeist
Taking flicks and yo stolen nights, the clip's rolling right
Paper chasing with this door in sight
Taking ten kingpins out, they balling stripes
Show you right where they buried, right and they smoked his pipe
It's medicin through a cobra's bite
I hold the mic with the real concern in the facts
Wait no more, return to the acts
Return fire

Earn a writer when I burn a squire
Self employed, the murder higher