I masquerade my silhouettes TNF to the death Dickies sewn to my thread No Parker on, but Parker's on Trackside burners Like I'm farming them G's Fill my jeans to the seams Running chrome river streams Dodging blue-light beams Metaphor for my teens I can't case this: Cream of the crop meets Her cherry on top Silhouettes on rooftops Suburbia Boondocks Take the chicken outta pox Spreading word The Jukebox Stashed home Bill backbone on Jack Jones Jameson's and Henny This the Southeast Belly of the beast—that's the SE Goodfellas, Joe Pescis Yellow fronts, blowing blunts Couple fronts, couple mugs Navigating these clouds of smoke Like the night bus bell broke; Red flag for the foil bloke; Ski mask keeps my boat afloat Off-piste for the white smoke Percy tens 'cause that's what I smoke Flee land, the Irishman Free man, like Morgan I know my civics They can't touch this spirit I'm paging a potent verse; No wager is what I'm worth How goats climb on incline In search of the salts— Top percenter, the Malts Cheddar talks, but I walk Braggadocio, break bread Breaking off the brioche Cutting through the kiosk Dremel up bus doors Not one saw—no one saw? No Uncer for us anarchy sons My calorie battery runs Blood knots like blood clots Got 'em off the budge Complexion got me off the hook! A.C.T. on red streams; Fake G's ain't blood clean A&E along Queens Young apostle like St. John's Pagans to patrons; Patience my fragrance That cat on a tin roof No tin's proof; Ain't been through Like Guess Who Ain't flapping my flaps down A face-down, my face-down Trackie with a hoodie crown Buried my riches like tombs But hieroglyphics burn A picture like gamut The stick or the carrot Force of habit, like Hamlet Rotten core I'll flip The script like a pamphlet