Piers

I’ve been at war with my reflectionProjection of emotion is the coast they ownI’m flown by the decision to this deadly game with no weaponI been left up on on the hill where they died hereWishing I could produce more tearsNow steady fighting fearsAre you, in-fear-ior, [inferior] to the piers?

Dew

I paid my dues now its dew from the grass.I heard cash ass or grass from an old man it was so crastUnderstand the brash interpretation of provocation of broken generations.My skies have been blue but never of a bitter hueI grew

Sons

From the cracks of the cracks.Wrist used to be shack on shack.Remains from all over the map.I ran across the land a couple times, laps on top of laps.Something you just shouldn’t play with ain’t no way we made this far if God ain’t real.Protect your soul with a shield.Praying on buddy to be healed.

Figures

Never had six or seven figures.Write about the fixtures in the homes schools grocery stores.Have me feeling like this is the terror dome.Slaves are the new garden gnomes.Landed without a faction dreaming of action.Navigation or something formed as imitation.Lord unraveling earths gentrification.

Sort of

I’m on the edgeThey are preparing in the hedgesI’m hiding in the past raggedyDreaming of the day I did Kennedy the right wayI’m in the fray, opioid through the optics fry, have all sorts living in grayNever stray is what we was taughtWho’ve would’ve thoughtNow everyone is bought.

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