Salute
[Verse 1]
Drugs, MAC-10s back then
Gangster poster, a wall of graffing, style wars of rapping
Fur coats, herb smoke, drop the ashes
Play the curb, show the fashion
’88, Scarface tapes
All my apes caught a case, fought the jakes
Doing quarters in the gates due to slaughtering the snakes
The water’s full of hate
Microphone life alone to write his own
Inside the poem Bible’s known
I gather bones of Picasso, broke ‘em up in the bowl
Stole the skeleton of Shakespeare and Da Vinci’s skull
Placed them in the mix then grinded it to a liquor
Drunk it down while spit [?] pictures
Listeners, I turn your dome to theaters
The realest niggas appeal to killers
My brain’s haunted
I got a conscious full of convicts
Inside my brain cell as well I hold my conference
[Hook]
Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger
This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors
With no mixtures
Knowing soldiers with you when I hold the pistol
’til God blow the whistle, so official
Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger
This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors
With no mixtures
Know a soldier with you when I hold the pistol
’til God blow the whistle, I’m so official
[Verse 2]
So salute
Pay homage to knowledge, the prophet
Priest logic, deep conscious, heat launchers
Street rockets be cosmic
Seek comets
Hit the project, release hostage from beast market
Go ahead and chant, ’til you see an avalanche hit the doors of battle rams
Say my name across the apple lands
The MAC in my hand
But lose a firework, write a verse, messiah search
We flood the streets while they die of thirst
Your OG wanna light his purp, pull on the trees then he pause
Shut his eyes, blow the weed from his jaws
Opened his eyes then he reads, “The world is yours”
Psychic World of Walter Reed in stores
Suckers, see you on tour
And all you rappers, believe me it’s war
I’ve seen the sun at night and owls in the daytime
The stars align, God state of mind
Say the grace of rhyme, [?]
[Hook]
Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger
This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors
With no mixtures
Knowing soldiers with you when I hold the pistol
’til God blow the whistle, so official
Salute, niggas, I got my finger on the trigger
This the life of antichrist, ice and dark liquors
With no mixtures
Know a soldiers with you when I hold the pistol
’til God blow the whistle, I’m so official