It's the beauty in her, But when the makeup occur, I don't see it, All i see is a blur

I'm Machiavelli's offspring, I'm the king of New York, king of the coast, one hand, I juggle them both.

I was raised inside the gang culture.

I'm usually homeboys with the same ni**as I'm rhyming wit/But this is hip-hop and them ni**as should know what time it is/And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big KRIT, Wale/Pusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake/Big Sean, Jay Electron', Tyler, Mac Miller/I got love for you all but I'm tryna murder you ni**as/Tryna make sure your core fans never heard of you ni**as/They dont wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you ni**as

It's easy to forget who you are.

Hip-hop is not the problem, our reality is the problem.

Poetic justice, poetic justice.. if I told you that a flower bloom in a dark room would you trust it. I mean I write poems in these songs.