Let the Lord judge the criminals.
The ground is the symbol for the poor people; the poor people is gonna open up this whole world and swallow up the rich people. It's gonna be like - there might be some cannibalism out this mother. They might eat the rich.
What of fame? Everybody knows your name: never again are you alone.
No longer living in fear, my pistol close in hand, Convinced this is my year.
Even the genius ask questions.
Expose foes wit my hocus pocus flows, they froze now suckas idolize my chosen blows