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Yeah, yeah, ayo The underground done came alive and crawled up out the well All you see is scorched terrain and water up for sale This for woke bitches who did it and didn’t kiss 'n' tell This for coke sniffers dippin’ into this with fingernails Rip the cap off the boot polish and pour the liquid in Ravens oil tattoos top to bottom the ridgie’s skin Could of ended up as an addict or even in the clink I guess the way I’m living through these bars ain’t a coincidink I heard you bought the kitchen sink and change for your snow bunny Living at high speeds is guaranteed to slow the money Why I choose to keep the same hunger as the homeless folk 'Cause that ain’t what your mentors meant when they told you go for broke Snappin' like the neck of Jeffrey Ep', still I show you the ropes, or better yet The only item left was this open note Khakis are Carharrt, car keys are coke dipped When Crooky had the Mercedes none of the paper came from dada A product of the '80s, had some ladies going gaga The first line of the verse, well, I consider this the hard part But once I get the car start, maneuver like a maniac 'Cause tryna navigate through this industry that’s the dark art We headed right in dead of night, zombies shooting up We’re used to seeing dirty fits, them dirty fits is used to us Handle black jeeps down back streets we used to bus Instead of holding in traffic we bag it till the Uber comes Letras de canciones The rules The rules The rules to the game are simple “The wind get the ashes in the end, bro” The rules The rules The rules to the game are simple “The wind get the ashes in the end, bro” (Whoop whoop) I’m lucky Luciano over looped piano From the commission flats to the television screens Feels like the truth of today is more than the youth can handle (Golden Rule) Take the fuckin’ cake before they blow out your candles Ninety per cent will get a spark, but it doesn’t last Spend the rest of their limited years living in the past Looking for answers in the bottom of their whiskey glass But no sixteens is getting in between this thing of ours Whoa now, don’t know how to slow down Dried up all my tears I can sell a slug salt now Hold down the fort for the spitters from the old town Told me how the very thing that’s driving you's bound to be the demise of you The rules The rules The rules, peep the hidden jewels, the errands of fools Class is back in session for those talking out of school (Mad idea) From Letras Mania