SG Verse:
He Couldn't GET THIS/ INFECTIOUS/ Rusty Drum TETANUS/ Beat Out Of His Hollow Head, His Mom Said He Was RESTLESS/ TV Blaring DEATH WISH/ Using An Empty Lighter To Crack His GUINNESS EXTRAS/ Pulling From A Binder Of UNFINISHED LECTURES/ His Lines Were POIGNANT IMPRESSIONS/ He Was Dodging The LOAN SHARK// Couldn't Pay The PHONE CHARGE// Kept Loke, AVOIDING The COLLECTORS/ "I'll Scratch You Off My HIT LIST"/ He SAID THIS/ And ADDRESSED THIS/ Towards The Mic, The Mic Aimed To Where His CHEST IS/ Smoking A Bowl With His LAST MATCH/ He Had A Baggie Of Roaches, But Forgot Where He STASHED THAT/ Nothing Left From His LAST SACK/ So He Smoked The ASH BLACK/ Stepped Back Inside, Spit A FAST RAP/ One Take, The Beer Spilt, The GLASS CRACKED/ Bearing The Face Of A Dictator On His T-SHIRT/ Stood Spitting Till His FEET HURT/ Most Will Never Recognize The Nuances Of EACH WORK/ He Was FOCUSED MAN// Dims The Light On His LOTUS LAMP// Before He SPEAKS WORTH/ His Dad Yelling At Him To "Go EAT FIRST!"/ He Wrote RAPS// As Cute As A BABY'S BONNET/ Next TRACK// Describing The Destruction Of DEFREITAS COMET/ And Some Other Shit That MADE ME VOMIT/ He Was CRAZY ON IT/ His CLEVER STEADY FLOW// Was Dark As A CEMETERY CROW// Sounded Like Something... MAYBE ONYX?/ A Nobody Who Would ADORN The ART/ The Way He Would Use His Words To WARM Your HEART/ Stayed Stuck Spitting In A SWARM Of DARTS/ His Words Would Never Be TORN APART/ That Was The Night He Was BORN The GUARD/ The Very Moment His MIND// Physically ALIGNED// With The MORNING STAR/
MS Verse:
The Last Time I Saw The Homie We Talked About How The Business Was DYING/ Those At The Top Were Still Collecting Royalties While The Rest Were Reminiscing And CRYING/ About The Golden AGE/ They Were Spewing On The RAGE/ Of Downloads, Free Albums And EPs/ No GREASE/ To Make In Rap MUSIC/ Because Motherfuckers Took It Way Too Far When They ABUSED IT/ And Raped It And Pimped It, But His Soul Was GOLDEN/ Never FOLDING/ Even THOUGH THE/ Race Had No END/ No MEND/ For The Hole In His HEART/ The Thirst To Rip A Mic Twenty Ways APART/ The ART/ Was Dominated, But His Mind Ran Rampant And Wild, The Streets Was Empty From COMPETITORS/ He Had Slashed Every Last Word They Spit Like An Asphalt EDITOR/ But He Would See No PAPER/ Way LATER/ In The Night His Mood Was TURNING/ The Reefer Was All Out, He Had Cigarette Butts That He Kept Chain BURNING/ I Told Him, "Straight Up, Get A Job And Pay Your Mom Some RENT/ Because You're Hell BENT/ On Nothing, Go And Listen To The RADIO/ The Skills You Drop Are Way Above Any Single Thing They PLAYING YO!/ Keep Rhyming Till You Die, But Get Your Shit STRAIGHT"/ He Couldn't WAIT/ For Me To Finish And Was Off, Turned Left Down To The Alley, He Said The Rhymes Were Not His, That They Were All SENT/ He Didn't Say How Or Where From, But I Think I Know What He MEANT/