Don't want the wrath, want the mask and the black hoodie This not an act, you know I'm back with a sad boogie You do the math, my brother Naavin get the racks to me I know it's baggage but them problems in the past push me Dread and blasphemy Sitting 'laxed in my apartment where these raps put me You know the mack, he still be ballin' on his last cookie They still his mans, that mean somebody in his pack pussy I feel the land what made me heartless and them stabs gushy We the gas bullies, we in the crib making classics Why the stash bushy, getting mad kushy It be hard to make a living in catastrophe, a bit of atrophy At our darkest, shit be hidden in the fallacies Isn't what it actually It's always sparks but that just isn't where my passion be Drifts of agony, they say I learnt to talk my shit too casually I rather trip I can't exist too passively, this big tapestry