since before i peeped the theory from the low endnwater deep three feet high and risinnbefore i started smokinnnow it's smoke to my nose and eyes whenni stop to realize where this ride wentnwas it just the eyes of my youthnlike the coupe she keeps passin me by innwent from straight up suicide to suicide we scrutinized itnwho remembers your walkmannhopin there's still juice to rewind itnknowin you knew the whole shit through and used to flip it through the silencenfaded tapes that faded awayntruth the desecrated grave she lies innthey never reminisced when she crossed over to the other sidenit was a black sunday with a black moon on the horizonnoutcasted so the setting of the sun beefed with its risinnladies met brendas baby a ray of hope to take some pride innclear blue skies but aint sure whos side it was that euthanised itnbut aint the devil happy as fucknjust saw her daddy get buckednand laughed it up in the magazines that they’d never ride innplugged her uncle with the same gatnthat she snapped at her daddy's light withnnthis crap saved my life and my soulnso many times that i knownthere wasn’t any sign of light in this holenfor every rhyme that’d take flight from my soulnjust know that there’s at least 5 sittin behind us spittin from the writers of oldnnshe was such a good child i don't get itnhow she went from poor righteous teachins to hit the road to the richesnadmidst the hos and the bitchesnits like a whole different missesni ponder on the shortys around and how they drowd in her driftinsnas im sippin this crown bugginnbout the soundnand how what they missinnis that shit without the glam and the glitz and its glisteninnnow its the cameras picknexplicit amateurs with canter to spitnwhen we were fans of the shit we had causenand aint a man can tell me differentnwhen shut em down just got you opennand krs just made us listennwe had it made and paid in fullnnow we're the bullshit rendition of rick the rulers and dresesnhip hop hooray with the fishesnjust into jewelers and dressersnmisused the message to get itnshit was schooling or reppinnnow it's forget it or dead itnthis new shits like a fool with a weapon lettin loose at his weddingnkinetic proof in his love so now this love's gonna get himnhis pathetic excuse for propheticnjust to profess his concessionsnshe blessed my life with her strife without an honorable mentionnhow long can man dance on her fleshnuntil his god resurrects itnnthis crap saved my life and my soulnso many times that i knownthere wasn’t any sign of light in this holenfor every rhyme that’d take flight from my soulnjust know that there’s at least 5 sittin behind us spittin from the writers of old