I was ONCE ADORED by chiefs, priests, MONKS & LORDS/an elite fleet that don't need sleep, just BLUNTS & WHORES/ In these streets, I preach peace but COME WITH SWORDS/don't seek beef, still keep heat, yeah, GUNS IN HOARDES/ Still, one punch'll leave you Hunched, SLUMPED & GORED/ None after & NONE BEFORE, so my presence was signaled by a one man TRUMPET ROAR till his LUNGS WAS SORE/The crimson bandwagon's pulling off, so if ya FUNDS AFFORD, please JUMP ABOARD/This verse alone makes me a shoe in for the poster of the MONTH AWARD/but to let my INTENTIONS KNOWN, I'm thinkin of CLENCHING CHROME or PIMPIN HOES instead of PENNIN' POEMS/ HENCE THE GROANS, cause the TENSION GROWS when u MENTION FOES/I crack limbs, CHINS & DOMES & leave INDENTIONS SHOWN through SKIN & BONES/but Even in death, my name'll remained CEMENT IN STONE/ since I've got scientists on RETENTION HOLD whose soul INVENTION GOAL is workin on the blueprints of the CRIMSON CLONE/
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