Sun Crusher

My mind is a heavy fist
dealing with the pressure
waiting for the levy splits
fighting and shooting
for the glory of men
wanting to bang
Gloria Valez to Big Pimpin’
instead I was getting love fixes
from hoodrat chickens to Can I Kick It?
pitchin’ ducking thse cops guilty image
my sky had its limit
a ceiling with a glassy finish
right where God didn’t stop to listen
heaven was a gimmick
and hell was my existence
imprinting the game on weight benches
writing the first line to my wake sentence
I practically raped penance to be an MC
then came the dirty deed
100 grand for 16 bars
like it was Ether time
and I’m wrong for being the one with a cleaner mind?


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