I'm trynna hold to things my momma told me
Untying from all the wrongs my poppa showed me
Shouts to the crack babies, that mean all of us
We in the trap cuz captains and officers be at war wit us
Sages in these streets of rage, housing mean that people caged
We prosper via proxy oxymoronic
Even the prophets need a decent wage
'For the Milo hit the mouths of babes
I know a missile silo settin' aim at a house of clay
My bodega Ahki greet me like "yo" we both the same
He used to keep a picture of him like 8 holdin' an AK
No frame from your Crate and Barrel
The riddle from the sphinx is how can you escape from the arrow
With the lasso if you only walk the straight, and narrow
Could travel Soul Plane's flight plan to a city of Los Angelese
The lamb could never go ham
But jammed Bar Mitzvahs at the Hammerstein
I'm a worldly man it seems