FOR THE LURU ft. Magnitude

Chief man, king man, barefoot Navajo.

Weed man, me man, see me with an entourage.

Bevelonout gentleman, even with the armor off.

Setting trends was last year; the new kids are soft. I let the booze hit, what's the movement? Hit 'em till they're clueless, got 'em spooked when I swoop in, new skin charisma.

I must've missed some miniature. Someone lift the money out of the bank; I couldn't give a fuck

In the middle of the minimum, mining some old minerals, dining with some generals.

I lift you from your physical, in the cityscape, buried in some green undertones, welcome to the thunder dome, hope you didn't come alone.

I came to bring the storm, no break, no interval.

I'm dipping through the pitfalls, I might not make it, but thinking annoyed is making me pissed off.

Hard-knock life is making me hate y'all.

Shorty, it's time to take off, etcetera to my end, competitors on defense, predator to the pen.

I deaded up all my friends, I must've been hallucinating once again. One second, Rasta man, busting man, proper plan, I must admit I dust the lid.