The Soil

I rock the game like a bracelet, everything I touch I blaze it
Everything I drop I lace it, I drop science and criminal shit
Hostile witnesses wouldn’t say shit, so raw, radio wouldn’t play it
It’s the basics they get paid, to play that bullshit
I form the campaign, gorilla market this bitch
Flood the industry and internet with marketing skills
I mean sell mad mixtapes, lock range on deals
Book shows out the building, if that’s what it takes
To make a mill, I’m determined, at the same time I’m still learning
At the same time I’m still earning
If you don’t do it yourself, the clock keeps turning
Set this bitch on fire, and my tracks keep burning
Couldn’t stop if I wanted to, my fans keep yearning
Tour the world like an explorer, pionner or warrior
No more, p’s, prowling in them Crown Victoria’s
Alot of blood, sweat & tears, but I got the formula
I’m not making you the raw nigga, I’m fucking bombing ya
No sirens, no warnings, no alarming
You had your turn and you shitted, do you believe in carma?